#sorry the idea that he's constantly slouching is really funny to me

[chiprewington]

11 foot 7 inches and he spends most of his time NOT looking the part

[comfortwriting]

Call Out My Name - F.W.

Fred Weasley X Reader imagine inspired by the song ‘Call Out My Name’ by The Weeknd.

Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: Your Feedback will be greatly appreciated! 

About: Fred is constantly in a ‘on and off’ toxic relationship and he uses the reader when he is lonely, overtime she falls in love with him but because she isn’t Fred’s girl - she has no choice but to walk away.

Themes: Heartbreak, unrequited love, sadness, longing.

Warnings: indication of smut, raw feelings of worthlessness, depression and anger.

Staring out of the train window trying to think of something to doodle in your notebook you couldn’t help but feel over the moon that you were going home for the summer, you had never felt like this before and you hated that you did - but after years of being strung along by someone and not being able to stay away from them - this feeling was bittersweet, hell, everything you had gone through was now nothing but bittersweet memories you just wanted to forget, almost like it never happened.

You fell in love with Fred slowly but the more time you spent with him you fell head over heels for him. This whole fiasco - whatever it was you had with Fred started three years ago, your first time spending the summer at The Burrow. Fred’s on and off girlfriend split up with him for the first time, Fred became withdrawn, not wanting to take part in his usual pranks or plan any new inventions with his brother George. At first, you believed that Fred wanted you around because he valued your friendship (a budding romance) and because you made him happy, but overtime you realised that this wasn’t the case at all - unfortunately you were just a stepping stone for him, someone to use when he couldn’t get what he wanted from the ‘love of his life’. 

You put your head in your hands and sighed deeply, the tears slowly pricking at your eyes, slouching in your seat you covered your house scarf (the one that Fred bought you) over your eyes, the memories flashing back to you like they happened yesterday.

We found each other I helped you out of a broken place You gave me comfort But falling for you was my mistake

Fred sat in his bed, his eyes red and puffy from all of the crying “I don’t know what to do, she doesn’t want me anymore” seeing him in such a state made your heartache, you had never seen him like this before - you were used to him bouncing around, always laughing and getting up to no good, not crying in bed too sad to be himself.

You sat on his bed and stroked his short hair that had been cut a few weeks ago “It’s going to be okay” you smiled at him softly “I know it might be too much to ask but why don’t we go for a walk? Get away from all the noise in this house, just this once.” you encouraged him.  

Fred contemplated your offer for a moment and then nodded “I can do that” he smiled, slowly getting out of bed. What started off as ‘just this once’ turned into routine - you and Fred going for stupidly long walks every morning you were at the burrow. 

Remembering the first time your hands brushed up against one another used to make the butterflies in your stomach soar but now all it does is hurt worse than before - rain now pattering down on the window.

Within months you and Fred did everything together, morning walks, quidditch in the afternoon basking in the warmth and orange glow of the sun, and then in the evenings you two would sneak downstairs whilst everyone lay asleep in bed.

“Hey Y/N” Fred whispered through the crack in the door, trying not to wake everyone up “fancy popping on one of those muggle horror movies you keep telling dad about?” 

You turned over, the landing light shining in your eyes and smirked at Fred, mirroring him “go on then.” 

Clutching your chest you could feel the pain of this memory hit you like a tonne of bricks, taking deep breaths you tried so hard to bring yourself back into the present moment... on the way home... leaving Hogwarts...but it didn’t work, like a leaf in the wind you were pushed back in relieving what you just wanted to forget.

The old and scratchy patchwork blanket sat over you and Fred, out of the corner of your eye you caught Fred glancing at you and smiling to himself. Turning to face him you asked what was so funny “nothing” he replied, yet he leaned in closer, his nose almost touching yours. Giving in, the two of you shared your first kiss and you could’ve sworn you felt sparks igniting within you. 

You brushed your fingers over your soft lonely lips reminiscing more of the memories that popped into your head as if they were being played on film. 

A few evenings later you and Fred were on the same sofa, covered by the same scratchy old patchwork blanket in the dead of night, yet this time instead this kiss lead to something much more, instead of sparks simply just igniting, burst into the biggest and most beautiful firework as you and Fred shared such an intimate moment together.

George had to admit that although he felt left out, he couldn’t deny how much happier Fred became when you were around - he started being himself again; pranking Ron and annoying Percy like it was going out of fashion.

But you had no idea that whatever you had with Fred would turn into the most intense rollercoaster ride you had ever been on.

I put you on top, I put you on top I claimed you so proud and openly

For the first time in your life you put another person before you and you deemed such an act ‘worth it’ at the time because you made mistakes out of your pure love for Fred, but you realised all you were doing was burning yourself out to keep Fred alight. Instead of getting perfect grades, you found yourself in enough detentions for everyone in your house.

In your mind Fred was yours, your boyfriend and he made you feel on top of the world and all you wanted to do was share your feelings and relationship to the world. Every Saturday morning you would be sat waiting at the Quidditch pitch to cheer on Fred, regardless whether it was a match or just practice.

You would write to your family and friends, telling them all about the soft haired troublemaker who swept you off your feet. “Looks like you’ve got another letter” George mentioned one morning over breakfast, your owl swooping up ahead delivering a reply. 

You smiled widely and nodded “Of course I do!” you giggled “My parents can’t wait to meet Fred this Christmas!”

George’s face dropped at your excitement, he cleared his throat awkwardly “I’m really sorry Y/N but did Fred tell you?” he asked, giving you a deep look of sympathy. 

You scowled and shook your head wondering what would get in the way of your perfect plans “tell me what?” 

George stayed silent for a moment but he tried his best to let you down gently “He’s back in contact with his ex, they’re working things out.”

And when times were rough, when times were rough I made sure I held you close to me

And for the second time, Fred came crying into your arms looking like he had been torn apart “She doesn’t think it’s going to work out, she said that it’s not the right time” you held him in your arms, cuddling on the sofa in the common room, rubbing his back with one hand and stroking his now long shoulder length hair with the other, you reassured him. 

“It’s going to be okay Freddie, you got yourself back on track last time and you’re capable of going it again sweetheart” you reminded him “you’ve got me and George, remember.” 

Within the months that came after, you two were inseparable once again, going to Hogsmeade on the weekends raiding Honeydukes and sharing a butterbeer or two in the Three Broomsticks but as always and like George predicted, once Fred’s girl came back into the picture, he dropped you again. 

You managed to break from your flashbacks for a moment, removing the scarf from your face. Checking your watch you had another hour or so until you would be arriving at Kings Cross Station, you slumped back down in your seat and doodled broken hearts and tears onto your open love letters to Fred, now hidden in your notebook.

So call out my name (call out my name) Call out my name when I kiss you so gently I want you to stay (I want you to stay) I want you to stay, even though you don't want me

“Well from the sounds of things you’re not in a serious relationship” you mentioned to Fred, taking off your muddy robes. George shook his head at you almost telling you off but you were both getting frustrated, the only difference is that you didn’t want to keep quiet anymore. 

“Not yet but I’m waiting for her” Fred said eagerly removing his robes too, George could feel the tension in the air and went to the common room.

“So what about us?” you asked bravely, your heart begging to hear what it wanted most. 

Allowing the last of your confidence that Fred had wiped away overtime, you walked towards him and cupped his face, kissing him softly, trying to convince him that you were the one worth waiting for but no matter what, deep down in your heart you knew Fred was thinking about her.

Fred kissed back and chuckled “us?” he flashed you a confused look “we’re the same as we’ve ever been, as we’ll always be” you felt crushed, this wasn’t the answer you were hoping for (and you now owed George all of your exploding bonbons) but you accepted your fate and left to find George so you could cry in his arms. 

“He never truly wanted me, did he?” You asked George, tears running down your cheeks. 

George shook his head “It’s always been about her Y/N, I’m sorry” you hugged George and cried into his chest whilst he held you.

“why can’t I be Fred’s girl?” 

Torturing yourself beyond repair you couldn’t stay away from Fred, no matter how hard you tried. You still found yourself supporting him at Quidditch, helping him study, you even engaged in conversation with him about his girl, how amazing she was and how happy she made him. You knew if he had the chance Fred would transform you into her if a single project came down to it.

Girl, why can't you wait? (Why can't you wait, baby?) Girl, why can't you wait 'til I fall out of love? Won't you call out my name? (Call out my name) Girl, call out my name, and I'll be on my way

Clutching your date and dancing lazily to the music you stared at Fred having the time of his life with the girl of his dreams on his arm, beaming up at him. You hoped this ball and your date would help you find a new spark and create new fireworks yet with every opportunity to do so all you did was wish for Fred, stare at him and act as if he were to realise you were the one with any coming moment - but it didn’t happen yet, it would never happen. You kept wishing over and over in your head for Fred to turn around, meet your gaze and to become blinded by your beauty when you had another admirer trying to break down your cold persona. 

I said I didn't feel nothing baby, but I lied I almost cut a piece of myself for your life Guess I was just another pit stop 'Til you made up your mind You just wasted my time

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Fred asked, taking a bite out of his toast “Mum and dad are really keen to meet her and she’s never been able to visit over the summer before and with everyone else there we just wouldn’t have the room.”

The two of you continued to walk towards the castle, George following not far behind.

Fred was now inviting his girlfriend to stay with him at the burrow this summer, something you had always done up until this very moment - this was the moment you realised that everything had been a lie, Fred never cared, he never loved you, he had just used you each and every time the love of his life got bored, only to drop you as soon as she wanted him back. 

“Yeah it’s fine, I understand completely” you lied, feeling anger, despair and insecure like you had never before “I’ll just see you at the shop once the ball gets rolling.” Earlier in the year Fred offered you a job to help out with him and George at the shop, placing your own career plan at the ministry on hold.

“Oh bugger” Fred stopped his tracks looking a bit stressed “that's another thing i forgot to mention, we won’t be needing you to help out anymore as-”

“she’s helping out instead” you cut Fred off, finally reaching your breaking point you ran away from Fred and went to your dorm, packing your trunk. 

You're on top, I put you on top I claimed you so proud and openly, babe And when times were rough, when times were rough I made sure I held you close to me

“Are you seriously running back to him after what he did?” 

“He isn’t like that! you don’t understand, you can’t judge him - you don’t even know him!”

So call out my name (call out my name, baby) So call out my name when I kiss you So gently, I want you to stay (I want you to stay) I want you to stay even though you don't want me Girl, why can't you wait? (Girl, why can't you wait 'til I) Girl, why can't you wait 'til I fall out of loving? Babe, call out my name (say call out my name, baby) Girl, call out my name, and I'll be on my way, girl I'll be on my

Jolting awake the train came to a stop, you had finally arrived at the station. Taking a deep breath you picked up your trunk and notebook, getting off the train your scarf slipped off but you were too busy trying to spot your parents to notice. This was it, no more Hogwarts, you didn’t want to look back.

Feeling faint you ran into the toilets, throwing up the last of your pumpkin juice from the ride home, you stared at yourself in the mirror, washing your hands and splashing your face.

“Why can’t I be Fred’s girl?” You asked yourself.

On my way, all the way On my way, all the way, ooh On my way, on my way, on my way On my way, on my way, on my way (On my)

Reaching the exit of the station you spotted The Weasleys, welcoming Fred’s new girlfriend into a tight hug with delighted expressions on their faces. You looked to George and he gave a sad smile, he wanted to say goodbye but even that would be too painful for you to handle; after all, you weren’t just losing Fred, you were losing George, Molly and the rest of the family you loved so much.

Before you could turn around and continue to look for your family, Fred noticed you, he stopped for a moment and waved, holding your scarf up in his hands and shaking it. 

You wanted more than anything to run to Fred and collect it but instead you didn’t wave back or smile, you shook your head and spun on your heel, acting as if he were never there at all. 

[writer-ish]

Hi Kat! Here are this week's questions for E x B!

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Thank you to @jamespotterthefirst for humouring me and sending me these questions. I hope that it will help with my OPH/writing rut! I'm so excited to answer them for Brooke x Ethan. 🥰

The setting is: post-Dolores/the Naveen reveal, but pre-Miami.

Let's get started!

INT. COFFEE SHOP - MID-AFTERNOON

Two doctors sit at a small table. One has her leg crossed, foot swinging lightly. Her face is open and slightly amused. The other has his hands clasped loosely between his open legs. He is blatantly less impressed than his colleague.

Ethan: This is ludicrous.

Brooke: [laughs lightly] Can't you just humour them?

Ethan: Last time I checked, we had a job that didn't involve answering foolish questions for some sophomore publication.

Brooke: They want to humanize the doctors in the hospital. Make us more… approachable. It's not a bad idea.

Ethan: [in a low grumble] I don't want to be approached or humanized.

Brooke [loud laugh] Shocker.

Are we all set to begin?

Brooke: [clears throat] Er, yes. Sorry.

Ethan: [glares]

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought ____________

Brooke and Ethan: [look at each other for a beat, then speak simultaneously]

Brooke: Well, I— Ethan: She, uh—

Ethan: [clears throat] You go first.

Brooke: [shoots him a look] Well. I, uh, was taken aback by your presence.

Ethan: What does that mean?

Brooke: Well, you know, you're very—you command a room, let's just say. And then you got awfully bossy, but it was good because I was panicking. And, uh—that's pretty much it. Your turn.

Ethan: I thought she was very young and inexperienced. And I was proven correct almost immediately.

Brooke: [elbows him] Can't you say something nice?

Ethan: You said commanding and bossy!

Brooke: It was a compliment!

Ethan: Fine. She was…surprisingly competent for an intern.

Brooke: [sarcastically waves a hand in front of her face] My goodness, I'm swooning.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Brooke and Ethan: "Fuck."

Brooke: It's not very professional, but—

Ethan: —it is necessary at times. Although I did hear another one from you the other day that I quite enjoyed. "Son of a whore", was it?

Brooke: [blushes] Whoops.

Ethan: You're lucky there weren't any patients around.

Brooke: [innocently] Patients don't swear?

Ethan: [withering look] I'll let you know when patients need to be held to the same professional standards as the doctors who treat them.

Brooke: Well, whatever. I was in the supply closet anyway and it was because I had gotten a cardboard papercut, which is notoriously the worst kind of papercut—[suddenly eyes him suspiciously] I didn't even know you were there.

Ethan: [coughs] I was, uh, walking past when I heard your inappropriate outburst and I stopped to ensure it wasn't a wayward psychiatric patient lost amongst the halls.

Brooke: [dryly] Hilarious.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Brooke: Oh, blue. Blue-blue. Like, a very crystal clear blue.

Ethan: I think we get it. Brooke's eyes are hazel but they err on the side of green.

Brooke: "Err on the side of green"?

Ethan: Yes. Like when you wore that sweater the other day, they appeared more— [clears throat] I'm not going to sit here and explain the illusion of refractory light. Next question.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Brooke: [dryly] Just thr—?

Ethan: [cuts her off] Yes, yes, we get the joke, I hate everyone. Brooke on the other hand, hates no one. I believe she should be more discerning.

Brooke: You would.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: Endearing? I—

Brooke: Oh, oh—the tie thing!

Ethan: The… tie thing?

Brooke: You do this thing when you're trying to get your emotions under control. It's like a [presses thumb against her other fingers in a crab-claw gesture] grab all the way down and then a flat palm just to smooth it again. [mimics a smoothing gesture down the front of her shirt, keeping her face pinched and stoic]. The "double-tie-grab-and-smooth" is what I call it. As of two seconds ago.

Ethan: Fascinating. As for Brooke, I can think of two.

Brooke: Here we go.

Ethan: The first is to ensure she never borrows your pen, as it will be returned to you as though someone inserted it into a pencil sharpener. I don't know how she isn't covered in ink constantly, the way she gnaws on the ends so violently.

Brooke: First of all, it's not that bad. Secondly, [mumbles] I have had a pen or two explode on me.

Ethan: I am extremely unsurprised. And the second is the sheer number of cardigans left everywhere - around my office, the faculty room, patients' rooms, and so on. She leaves them like breadcrumbs in a children's fairytale.

Brooke: [laughing too hard to speak]

Ethan: Yes, very funny and professional.

Brooke: [still laughing] Could you at least…grab one…next time you see it? I'm running low!

Ethan: What a surprise.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan: [scoffs] A "crush"? The very concept of a 'crush' is extremely juvenile and I refuse to pander to such incongruous—

Brooke: Dr. Harper Emery

Ethan: [splutters] I beg your pardon?

Brooke: [smirks]

Ethan: Well, yours would be that scalpel jockey surfer boy that's always mooning over you.

Brooke: [turns to him, aghast] Bryce? I don't have a crush on him! And neither does he. On me, I mean.

Ethan: On you, indeed.

Brooke: What's that supposed to mean?

Ethan: Hmm? Oh, nothing. Simply that the way he pressed you to the floor in the observation room of Surgery B would say otherwise, that's all.

Brooke: [blushes deeply] You saw that?

Ethan: I see everything, Rookie.

[There is an extended, awkward silence.]

Never Have I Ever:

Ethan: What is this now?

Brooke: [hides a smile] It's a game. A drinking game. You really don't know it?

Ethan: If you're asking if I'm familiar with a college-level excuse to get sauced and forget about my classes for the next week, then no. I don't know it.

Brooke: [rolls her eyes] It's simple. They ask a question. If you've done it, you take a drink. If you haven't, you don't. And [lightly swings her take-out coffee cup in his face] I don't think you'll get drunk on herbal tea, so you'll be fine.

Okay, let's begin. Never have I ever…

...come into work hungover

Brooke and Ethan: [take a drink]

Brooke: Really?

Ethan: I wish I could affect the same level of surprise for you.

...had a fistfight

Brooke and Ethan: [take a drink]

Ethan: [raises an eyebrow at Brooke]

Brooke: [shrugs] Rowdy childhood.

Ethan: [nods] Same. [coughs] Perhaps… rowdy adolescence. And, uh, [another light cough] early adulthood, as well.

Brooke: Dr. Ramsey!

...been kicked out of a bar

Ethan: [takes a drink]

Brooke: Oh?

Ethan: That rowdy early adulthood I spoke of? Yeah.

Brooke: Ah.

...gotten a tattoo

Brooke: [avoids eye contact, takes a drink]

Ethan: [turns to her swiftly, looking shocked, then quickly composes himself] Let me guess - dolphin on your ankle?

Brooke: Shut up.

Ethan: Christ, am I right?

Brooke: No, but you might as well be.

Ethan: [laughs, which seems to surprise them both, then clears his throat] We all have regrets, Dr Spiers.

Brooke: [grimaces and slouches in her seat]

Ethan: [stares at her for a beat longer than necessary, before leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression]

...broken someone’s heart

Ethan and Brooke: [quickly look at each other; neither drinks]

Brooke: No? You?

Ethan: What's that supposed to mean?

Brooke: Just surprised all this [gestures vaguely at his face] didn't get the ladies all worked up in—where are you from?

Ethan: Rhode Island. And no, "all this" [gestures to his own face] took awhile to grow into itself, I assure you.

Brooke: [laughs] Oh, big same.

Ethan: [gives her a sidelong glance, a soft smile playing at his lips]

...been in love

Brooke: [takes a drink]

Ethan: Really?

Brooke: What, it's so hard to believe?

Ethan: Well, you said you'd never broken someone's heart.

Brooke: [smiles at him softly, a bit sadly] Never said my heart hadn't been broken, Dr Ramsey. Some people are the heartbreakers, some are the broken-hearted.

Ethan: [splutters] Preposterous.

Brooke: [looks surprised] What is?

Ethan: That you—I mean, that is—that someone— [he pauses, fidgeting with his tie before smoothing it down] It's his loss, Rookie. [clears his throat, looking away]

Brooke: [smiles, bemused yet pleased, a warmth in her eyes] Thank you, Dr Ramsey.

For Brooke (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Oh, [scoffs out a laugh] wherever he wants to be. He's Ethan freaking Ramsey. He can do whatever he wants. What's the highest position in the hospital? Chief of Medicine? That. [Thinks for a moment] Well, no, actually. He probably wouldn't want to be admin. But whatever he could do that would still have him on the ground, helping people, at the highest level of expertise - that's where he'll be.

And, uh, personally?

Oh. Well. [fidgets, looks away]. I'm sure I don't know. Probably married to some supermodel who will put up with him never being home and always being reticent and grouchy. [Laughs humourlessly]

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Oh gosh. [Pauses] Probably how much he cares. I know you see him now and you think, god, what an asshole. And you're not wrong. But the truth is, he has to maintain this facade of a huge, unfeeling jerk, because the fact of the matter is he cares so deeply. [Her expression goes distant and soft]. Honestly, he cares so much I'm worried it will be his downfall one day.

Last thing he texted you?

[Laughs] He hates texting. But I think it was, "What time is this - redacted - thing again"?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Ah… [laughs uncomfortably] What, like, right now? The way we are? Or as two… random people in a bar?

Right now. The way you are.

[Blushes and continues to laugh awkwardly] Is he—you said he won't see these?

No, this part will be anonymous and the information gathered will be for statistical purposes, not anecdotal.

[Fake bravado affectation] Oh, well, if it's for statistics— [pauses] I would say yes. In a heartbeat. I would say yes. [Smiles, almost apologetically] I mean, have you seen him?

For Ethan (Brooke is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Wherever she wants to be. She's a highly motivated and intelligent individual. I give her a hard time, because I see great potential in her and feel as though, as her mentor, she should be pushed to achieve the pinnacle of success. Which is undoubtedly capable of.

And personal?

I don't presume to know what the future holds for my interns' personal lives. [A long pause] But I would hope… [clears throat, picks non-existent lint off his pants, continues gruffly] I would hope she remains happy and healthy, without anymore instances of [clears throat, again] heartbreak. Of any kind.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

I'm sorry?

What do you find attractive—

No, I heard you, I just find this sort of question wildly inappropriate and I refuse to answer it.

Okay, so we'll just put down 'nothing'.

Hold on, don't—I didn't say nothing. Just say I didn't answer.

We need some sort of answer.

Oh, for Christ's sake—will she see this? Will anyone?

No, it's information that will be used for statistical—

Fine, alright, I don't care. She's obviously an incredibly attractive woman. Are you happy? [Pauses] I mean, specifically? I would say her eyes. Especially when she smiles and they crinkle up on the sides. Also, her laugh. She's not a woman who 'titters'. Brooke isn't afraid to—well, to simply live. She laughs loudly, loves boldly, defends strongly. [His expression grows thoughtful,] She said I was a presence in a room? When she walks into—anywhere, the entire room stands still. It's like the air has been sucked out of it. And within seconds, they're enthralled. Within minutes, they love her. That's Brooke. [Clears throat] Don't put any of that. Just write down "Her intelligence."

Last thing she texted you?

"Be nice." And then some moving picture image of a dog wagging its finger. [Rolls his eyes] I hate texting.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

[Sighs wearily]

Again, she won't know. It's for statistical—

[Waves hand dismissively before sighing once more] In an ideal world—[cuts himself off and tries again] Look. Any man would be lucky to have Dr. Brooke Spiers as his partner. [Pauses] And that includes me. [clears throat] But we don't live in an ideal world. And a relationship between her and I would not only be inappropriate, but it would also inhibit her potential to achieve the highest levels of success that she is capable of achieving. [Pauses] And I would never do that to her.

[Stands up abruptly] Are we done here? We're done. Rookie! [Leaves to meet Dr. Spiers, who is waiting for him outside.]

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - LATE AFTERNOON

OBSERVED FROM INSIDE THE COFFEE SHOP

The two doctors greet each other with a smile. NOTE: Dr Ramsey immediately appears calmer in the other doctor's presence.

He says something and Dr Spiers bumps him playfully with her shoulder. Dr Ramsey continues to speak, gesturing towards her ankle, and Dr Spiers throws her head back and laughs loudly.

Dr Ramsey watches her laugh with a small smile on his face, before allowing her shove him lightly in the direction that they are meant to take.

They walk side by side, chatting and smiling, until they disappear from view.

[lavenderbexlatte]

more & more

stray kids 2.6k words female reader insert FemDom!Reader x Sub!3RACHA mature

🖤 warnings: light degradation 🖤

Series Masterlist (Parts 1-7)

connect with me! / masterlist

It’s all three of them. 

When that happened, you’re not quite sure. This is why you hate house parties, hate being messy drunk all on your own. There’s so many people milling around, crashing on couches, watching movies in the low light, disappearing into bedrooms to do God knows what.

You’re leaning on the wall, just watching the room at large. It’s a den, of some sort, a living room. A family room? You don’t know. There are long, worn, slouching sectional couches and a coffee table laden with bottles and cups. A television playing some movie casts a gentle bluish light over everything. It’s the quietest room in the house by far; you can hear loud laughter from the kitchen and bumping music from the backyard. You were content to just people-watch, enjoy being innocently drunk on your own and watching other people be less-innocently smashed.

This isn’t your first solo party, but it’s by far the most boring. Usually by now you’ve made a few friends who’ll carry you through the night, fun to dance and drink with and probably never see again. Not tonight. Up until now, it’s just been you, a series of drinks that you fished out of the fridge yourself, and lots of empty space.

But now, you’re surrounded by all three of them. On your left, Chan, propped casually on the wall himself, like he just happened to be there. On your right, Jisung, looking at you with that stupid grin, the really big one that shows his crooked tooth and pushes up his round cheeks. And right in front of you, Changbin, just regarding you coolly.

You know them. Everyone knows them. It’s far more surprising that they know you.

Because those three, they’re popular. Popular in a way that you didn’t really know could happen on an enormous college campus. Everyone knows them: Chan the music production major, president of the business honors frat; Changbin the creative writing whiz, Model UN president; Jisung, music major, only a sophomore but already leading the music honors society. They formed a project group once for a music production class project, as the legend goes, and the rap song they wrote, performed, and produced went Soundcloud viral. The rest is history. They’re local celebrities now, inseparable and insufferable.

They sit in front of you in your Physics 101 lecture. It’s a science class for nonscience majors, so you do alright for yourself, but you have no idea how these three are acing it the way they are. They talk and joke and write rap lyrics during class; Chan always has his production software open on his laptop, and Jisung is constantly scribbling down verses and bits. You’d think it was Changbin keeping them afloat, but he’s usually half asleep, propped up on one elbow as he nods off.

Not that you pay attention. Not that you care.

You’d care less if they weren’t so attractive. They’re all colored hair and big personality and annoying loud laughs while you’re trying to remember how to calculate redshift, apologies and soft smiles when their chairs bump into your desk.

The four of you even did a class project together once, a small star observation thing that only took a few hours, but it was a few hours of nighttime with them. But you were never close, you never even really talked beyond the basic chit-chat of classmates. You can barely remember their last names. You’re sure they don’t know yours.

So there’s really no reason for the three of them to be looking at you the way they are right now, on either side and directly in front of you, eyes trained on you.

You’re caged in, but you don’t hate it. You kind of like it. Really like it.

Changbin doesn’t say anything. None of them do. You don’t either. You just look at Changbin, your back pressed against the wall. He lifts one arm, all biceps and triceps and shoulders in a tight t-shirt, and rests his palm flat on the wall over your shoulder. He’s barely taller than you, but you feel pinned there, thoroughly caged in. It’s not a feeling you’re used to, and it sends a funny little thrill down your spine.

You break the silence first. “What are you doing?”

Changbin just keeps looking it you. It’s Chan who answers.

“Taking a risk.”

Huh.

You don’t say anything to that, just fixing Changbin with an even stare back. He leans forward, just enough that you think, oh Christ, he’s gonna kiss me.

He keeps coming until he doesn’t.

He veers to the side, right as your eyes flutter shut, and you open them to find his lips on Jisung’s, just a short tender press that leaves Jisung laughing after him. The big arm keeping you against the wall, holding you without even touching you, drops back down, and Changbin leans to the other side. With a little smirk as though he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, he kisses Chan, just the same.

You’re not quite sure what that’s meant to signal to you, or why they’re choosing to mess with you like this, but seeing them be so casual and tender sends an embarrassing wave of arousal through you. You wonder why you haven’t seen this part of their relationship before, if you’ve just been oblivious of it these months sitting behind them.

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, local celebrities, inseparable bros…more than friends?

Changbin regards you again, grinning smooth and sneaky. He pauses, and you nod your consent ever so slightly, egging him on. With a little huff of a laugh, a little bit of alright, alright, he finally kisses you, all firm pressure and warm confidence. One of your hands goes up to touch him, hold him, but Jisung grabs your wrist as it rises beside him and holds it back down firmly against the wall. You don’t try it with the other hand. Chan will probably do the same.

He pulls away, still grinning. You’re breathless, but clear-headed.

“There’s that pretty blush,” says Chan, cavalier, “You got all pink-cheeked and flustered like that when ‘Bin walked into you in the Starbucks the other week, you remember that?”

You barely do. It was weeks ago, just a brush against you that sent your books tumbling out of your arms when you realized who it was, sneaking behind you with their hand on the small of your back. It had surprised you, more than overwhelmed you, but you do remember your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you collected your books and notes from the floor.

“We decided we wanted to see it again,” says Jisung.

And suddenly it’s clear. They’ve underestimated you. Cornered you at a party, decided it would be easy to get the shy girl from Physics to fuck around with them a little. Three handsome and popular guys, versus little old you. No contest, right?

Oh, this will be fun.

You glance around at the three of them, taking in their expressions and stances, the way they lean into you or away. It’s clear that Jisung is the least sure of himself, whether for his age or his personality, you don’t know.

It’s easy enough to turn toward Jisung, wrenching your arm around his grasp. You lean in close, until you’re practically nose-to-nose with him. He’s always doe-eyed, but right now you swear you can see your own cocky little grin reflected back in his pupils.

“Only Changbin gets to have fun?” you ask, quietly, relishing the way Jisung twitches toward you.

Changbin scoffs, but Jisung surges forward to kiss you, too, much more eagerly. You barely let him touch your lips before you back off, and he chases you as you lean back, giving away his own desperation.

“Aw,” you coo.

He raises the hand that isn’t still holding fast to your wrist, as if you grab you, cup your face, bring you closer, and you pull back all the way.

“No,” you say sweetly.

Immediately, his hand darts back down to his side. Good. Very good. You press your lips to his again, just barely any pressure at all, and repeat your little game, pulling back and making him chase you.

After a moment, Jisung seems to realize what you’re doing, that you’re not going to let him any closer, and he relaxes again, his expression equal parts confused and intrigued. The other two are watching you with wide eyes. Changbin might as well be drooling.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not that easy to push around,” you say, smiling brightly.

“Figures,” says Chan, amused.

He’s still not touching you, hasn’t touched you at all. He’s just leaning there, a warm presence by your side. For some reason, that interests you even more. Maybe he’s going to be a challenge.

“And anyway, we shouldn’t cause a scene in front of all these people,” you turn slightly, meeting Jisung’s eye, “You gonna let go?”

Surprised, Jisung releases your wrist that he’s been squeezing all the while, and you cross your arms over your chest. You turn to face front again, forcing a little more space between yourself and Changbin.

Chan laughs. “You were wrong, ‘Bin.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Changbin mutters. “Find someone sweet and quiet, they wanna do you up in shibari and peg you. Every single time.”

He’s giving you ideas, which is dangerous and delightful. You wonder who’s done that stuff to them before. You kind of want to send that person a congratulations card, give them a high-five.

“Must just be our type,” Jisung muses.

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Just once, can’t we actually be into a sub?”

“Cuz that would work so well for us,” Jisung replies. “Another sub. Perfect.”

“So what are we doing here?” you ask, curiosity truly bursting, “What is this?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Chan says smoothly.

“You’re not just out here preying on innocent girls, are you?” you ask.

You don’t think they are. Everything you know paints them as harmless, more than a little dorky, good-natured and boisterous. But it’s easy to imagine someone less strong-willed than you getting swept away by the charm pouring off these three like Axe body spray off a middle schooler. They probably don’t even know how this looks, cornering someone and planting one on them.

Chan shakes his head, letting his hand wander over to tug Changbin into his side. “Nah. We were out for a few drinks, catching up with some people. And we saw you. Figured it was worth a shot.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Soft dom me into fucking you?”

Chan’s grin is rakish and ridiculously confident as he strokes Changbin’s shoulder. “It’s worked before.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say again.

You spare a glance around the room. Nobody has even noticed the four of you doing this very strange dance of power in the corner. The television is still blaring some old comedy, and people still recline on the assorted chairs and sofas. You’re in the clear to keep this going. You smile to yourself.

“I’m not disappointed,” says Jisung. “Are you two disappointed?”

Changbin shakes his head. Chan just keeps looking at you, still grinning bright and confident.

It occurs to you then, what Jisung has just said. About another sub not working out, with the three of them. They must all lean more submissive, then. Even Chan, under this thick layer of brat. You can work with that. He just needs a bit of an attitude adjustment.

So you move toward him, reaching for his face. He leans into the touch, until you move up to grab him by the hair. You remember when he was blonde, earlier in the school year, and an odd bluish grey before that. Somewhere in the middle was a shocking red that only lasted a day, a washable hairspray color. But now, his hair is inky black waves, and you twist your fingers into the curls that flyaway over his forehead and tug gently, tilting his chin up, until he’s backed himself against the wall, palms scrabbling at the wallpaper for purchase.

You just hold him like that, his hair a dark streak in your fist, not even pulling. Just holding him, letting the anticipation work its magic. Before long, he’s squirming ever so slightly in your hold, still meeting your eye stubbornly, pretending that he doesn’t want you to pull his hair, manhandle him more, do something.

“Is this it?” he scoffs.

“I don’t want to come on too strong,” you shrug.

Chan has the boldness to look bored. “You’re not doing anything. Maybe we were right the first time, and you’re just putting us on.”

You tug on his hair at the root, just once, hard enough that he jumps. Your other hand goes to the beltloop on his jeans, tugging his hips toward you just the slightest bit. It’s satisfying to watch him struggle, torn between rocking forward into you and staying put where the hand in his hair holds him up against the wall.

“Hm,” you hum, “Is this too much?”

You’re teasing him, and he knows it, since you’ve barely done anything at all. You can tell that he hates the way you’re patronizing him, from the way his lip curls into a sneer.

“No,” he rasps, “More.”

Changbin makes a small noise from just behind you, a groan or maybe even a moan, but you ignore it in favor of really driving your point home. You tug at the hair in your grip again, harder, and Chan arches that long pretty neck back with the tiniest gasp.

“More,” he says again.

“More and more,” you tease, fake sympathy dripping from your voice.

He nods eagerly, which tugs again at his own hair, making him gasp. You take that opportunity to kiss him, and he responds in kind, keeping his hands neatly by his sides without needing to be told. Where Changbin was measured, trying to impress you, and Jisung was surprised, Chan is eager to please.

You pull back, smacking your lips appreciatively. “Peach flavor, huh? Flavored lip balm. Aren’t you just a sweet peach.”

The way that Chan’s eyes blow wide when you say that is poetry. Oh, yes.

“You like that,” you say, “Don’t you, peach?”

Jisung lets out a desperate little sigh behind you, “Fuck.”

Oh. You’d forgotten that you’re putting on a show not just with Changbin and Jisung’s friend, but their partner. All the more reason to make it a good show.

“Tell me you like it,” you demand.

“I like it,” he says, almost before you’re finished speaking.

“Kiss him again,” comes Changbin’s voice. “Please.”

You oblige, just for a moment.

All at once, you break the kiss and pull away, letting go of his hair and backing all the way out of the little circle they’ve made around you. You take a second to appraise the three of them. Changbin is ruffled, far cry from the guy who’d made to pin you to the wall just a short while ago. Jisung is already hard in his tight jeans. And Chan is just a mess, still pressed to the wall where you’d left him, pink peach-flavored lips swollen from your handiwork.

You turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Chan asks, and you’re delighted to hear just a hint of a whine in his tone.

You fix the three of them with your best innocent look.

“You said you wanted more.”

As you turn again and saunter out of the family room(…den…living room?), you can hear the telltale sound of several desperate pairs of feet following you out.

Perfect.

[simpsiren]

nakamoto yuta x reader

description. One day, out of pure boredom or perhaps without even thinking, I decided to airdrop memes to random iphone users in the bus. How dumb was I to think that I wouldn’t get caught.

genre. urm internet au(?) i really don’t know what genre to call this tbh

word count. 1.3k~

warnings. none!

a/n. literally got this idea while i was actually doing it with a friend LMAO i srs thought my experience was funny and wanted to write to so here i am! hope you’ll enjoyy

“I’m seriously drained.”

Lucas and I were walking from the gates to the bus stop. Taking the shorter route, we dragged our weak bodies up a hill to get to the traffic light where the bus stop was opposite the road.

“Chemistry did it for me.” I muttered. I noticed how both our bodies were slouching so I decided to bring my body up straight for a quick moment to stretch out my back. “The amount of homework Mdm Lim gave us I swear.”

We finally reached the bus stop. You could say that using the shorter route served us no good since we missed the bus and had to wait for more than ten minutes for the next one to arrive.

We tapped in. The bus was a double decker so we decided to climb the stairs to the upper deck. Lucas was the first to climb up and went for the seats at the very front. “Why did you have to pick the space where the most amount of sunlight is hitting us? I’m burning here.” I complained.

I wasn’t feeling hot, it’s just the huge amount of sunlight coming through the glass that made me had to close my eyes in shock and turn my head where Lucas was sitting behind me.

“Well jeez sorry.” Lucas frowned, rolling his eyes. I shrugged and turned my whole body sideways so I wouldn’t have to face the sunlight that much, proceeding to unlock my phone and go to my gallery where I started looking through the videos that Lucas and I took in school. Specifically, during class when it was our free period and we had nothing better to do than to record ourselves doing nonsensical things.

I played the video and tried to suppress my laughter while watching, Lucas doing the same as he watched from behind. “Send me that video.” Lucas urged me, tapping my shoulder. I giggled and nodded my head. I tried sending the video but it failed due to the file being too big. I groaned, thinking how I wasted three minutes of waiting just to not get it sent.

“I thought you’d airdrop it to me. It’s quicker you know.” Lucas deadpans. I glared at him, not wanting to admit that it was indeed a better idea than what I did. “Okay, okay. Hold on.” I let out a ‘tsk’ and proceeded to airdrop. When I was about to click his iPhone’s name, I realised that other people’s bluetooth were on as well, meaning that I could airdrop to them.

I immediately turned to Lucas, who backed his head at my sudden action. “What?” He looked at me curiously.

“What if I airdrop something to strangers?” A smirk slowly creeped up my lips out of instinct. Lucas gave me a blank expression, but ended up copying mine a little while after. “Let’s try.” Lucas whispered. The two of us chuckled and in unison, we began finding for memes or random pictures to airdrop to strangers.

I found a meme that I just saved from Twitter and started to click on every name I saw that I could airdrop to. One of them was named ‘daddyyoongi’ which I found weird, but not shocked at all. It took awhile for them to respond, the word ‘waiting’ constantly flickering below their names.

I peeked at Lucas’s phone, who was still scrolling through his gallery to find something to send. “Did anyone respond?” Lucas looked up at me when he realised my eyes were on his phone. Downshifting back to my phone, my eyes widened, instantly bringing my phone close to Lucas’s face.

“They accepted.” I whispered. Lucas and I had the same expression and same thought. Are we seriously doing this right now? I read through their names since I didn’t bother to look at them when I sent. ‘yutaro; prince of osaka’

“Is he some kind of anime fan or something?” I thought to myself. Looking at the other iPhone names, I could tell that they were girls. I couldn’t really assume who yutaro was.

Seconds later, I received an airdrop from yutaro. Accepting it, I took a look at the photo. It was a meme. I couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh as the caption read, ‘Hello 911 im being attacked’

I wasted no time to find a meme to respond back. It was a spongebob meme with the caption. ‘(chuckles) I’m in danger.’ And proceeded to airdrop it to them.

“I can’t belive this.” Lucas whispered from behind. I could tell he’s seriously trying to stop himself from bursting in laughter. I’d be doing the same. The other iPhone users that I sent to didn’t reply, only accepting my airdrop. Though I was disappointed, at least I had yutaro who airdropped me a new meme in a matter of seconds. I slapped my thighs softly, covering my mouth when I accepted the airdrop.

Lucas surpressed his laughter once again. “Oh my fuck I’m such a genius.” I praised myself, breathing heavily to get myself to calm down and keep my cool so that no one in the bus would find us weird and suspect us as their secret airdroppers.

Yutaro and I airdropped memes. Some were random, while the rest were sent as if we were having a conversation. Which I found it to be personally fun. It was getting way too difficult to hide my laughter. Lucas told me he gave up trying to send since they weren’t responding and peeked at my phone.

The bus came to a halt and I realised that were at the bus interchange. I waited for the people from the upper deck to go out first, making a trying-to-not-look-weird kind of eye contact with each of them as they went down the flight of stairs. Lucas and I finally got down and tapped out. I looked through the memes that I received, finally the two of us bursting into laughter.

“You actually had a conversation with that yutaro person! I seriously can’t believe it!” Lucas shouted, shoving his hands into his pockets. I laughed, smacking his arm. “We should actually do that more often. Who knows, we might make friends.” I said, bobbing my shoulders as I bounced on the ball of my feet with each step.

Suddenly, I felt a presence coming from behind that got closer. Weirded out, I turned my head back. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes were met with a guy’s. He was leaning down to match my eye level. He had grey or ashy hair, but his roots were jet black. His face... was incredibly beautiful. His features, from his dark black eyes to his soft looking lips and clean face, not to mention is sharp jawline. I only met eye contact with him for a mere second. But his imagine was printed onto my mind.

“You do that often?” He suddenly whispered, soft enough that he had to lean in as he let out a chuckle and speed walked forward, passing Lucas and I. I got to shocked that it made me stop walking. I was in a trance. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his back, his hair that bounced in the wind that made me think it was light and fluffy.

“Why’d you stop?” Lucas was a few steps in front of me when he realised I was behind and went back to me. My mouth gaped opened slightly. I flinched when my phone dinged. Lifting my phone up to my face, I noticed that it was a notification that yutaro wanted to airdrop me something. Accepting, it took me to my gallery where the picture sent was shown.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” Lucas said it out loud for me before I could even read. It showed his twitter account with the caption ‘constantly flying between Japan and Korea’ with the aeroplane emoji beside it. I looked up, despite knowing that his figure already exited from my view.

I looked at the screemshot of his account. I noticed that the latest tweet he posted, which was just a minute ago stated, ‘text me ;D’

Lucas gasped at this. “You got caught.”

if you’re wondering what some of the memes were 👀

[cajunquandary]

Hands that Heal

Link: (coming soon to Ao3)

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little push the right direction...

Created for: @negans-lucille-tblr SPN Secret Santa Fic Exchange

Rating: 18+ only

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Jay)

Warnings: Jealous Dean, fluff, smut, smidge of angst, medical IV (briefly), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy)

Wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: Happy Holidays, @jay-and-dean! I was so ecstatic to have received your name and hope that my ramblings make you smile a little.

.

It’s a funny thing, the way everyone goes on about the eyes being windows to the soul. Of course, they can be very telling, and if you ever catch yourself getting lost in those of the Winchesters, how could you believe anything else? Or perhaps you are more like Jay. 

Jay has been with the Winchesters for quite some time. She’s been lost in those eyes. And she’s been found. The pure green folds of Dean’s have scooped her up, swaddled her, saved her. So have Sam’s hazel, but not in quite the same way. Not that either brother knows. Only Cas. 

Cas has seen the way her deep brown eyes linger just a little longer than they ought to, can feel the ache in her chest. There are times when Jay meets the angel’s gaze just afterwards but looks away just as quickly. They both know, but they won’t talk about it. And that’s okay. 

But for Jay, she can see beyond the green. Beyond the freckles and blushing pensive lips, the curve of his jaw, the gently rolling hills of his chest and arms. She traces the majestic waves and ripples beneath his warm skin with only her eyes and her heart. They come to rest just past strong wrists and fall like weighted feathers upon Dean’s weathered hands. 

You see, that’s where the soul really reveals itself closest to visible flesh. Each scar and busted knuckle tell a story. The pattern of freckles and tan lines speak of years in the sun. The calluses of his palm and fingertips disclose a rough life, a tough job. They are toned with skill, accurate in all things. They can field strip a gun and put it back together in the blink of an eye, tie complicated knots with dexterity, bait a hook and cast a line without hesitation, and even mold and create custom parts for Baby as they fix her up.

And yet, the skin between those marks is soft, no longer as elastic as it once was, but still full of life and love. The very muscles that hold together the bone and sinew have the capacity to both take life, and give it. Jay has watched them rip apart monsters and gently caress and hold victims within the same minute. 

Such an extreme duality shouldn’t be so neatly wrapped up in one man, but it was. It was both Dean’s light and his curse. Jay shivered as she hesitated just a moment too long on the fantasy of those thick muscled, deadly, yet oh-so-gentle hands, imagining how they might tickle as they might glide over her smooth skin. Of course, Dean notices. 

“There’s no way you’re cold, Jay. It’s a hundred friggin degrees outside!”

Right. Jay had to remind herself that they were on a case. No distractions. “Yeah, I-I���m good. Just got a chill because, ya know, we’re next to human refrigerators.” She swallowed hard and clenched her teeth to help ground herself back to reality. 

It really was hotter than a witch’s tit out there and not much cooler inside the mortuary. Dean continued to read silently from some forms on the coroner’s clipboard before licking his thumb and index finger to turn the page. Heat washed over Jay, spreading like drunken honey from her scalp all the way to her toes. She tried to steady her breathing, remain in persona as a stoney FBI agent, but the hot red of her cheeks was giving her away. 

She tore her gaze away to inspect the body. Not that anything she made mental note of would stick at this point. Dean cleared his throat and pulled the clipboard closer to his face before setting his thumbnail between his teeth the way he always did when he was laser-focused on something. She only caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but it was the final bit to break her. 

With a huff, Jay exclaimed a little too loudly, “There’s nothing here for us, Dean. I’ll be in the car.” Her legs carried her much too quickly out the swinging doors and up the stairs. 

“Um, okay?” Dean grumbled to himself before setting the paperwork back in its place and following Jay. “What the hell got into her?” 

Jay was glad to leave Texas. Mid-July heat drained her, along with every plant and tree scorched under the unrelenting and searing white sun. The world around them was bleached and bathed in the almost-eerie too-bright light. Well, everything except what existed in the shadows of the Impala. The sparse countryside rolled away mile by mile as time ticked by with every song on Dean’s favorite cassette. 

The air conditioning just couldn’t keep up, so Dean rolled down the windows. Jay tied up her locks in frustration, leaving a messy excuse for a bun resting on top of her head. The leather seats did nothing to help as she sweat through her shorts until she was nearly sliding off the seat. 

“How much longer until Oklahoma?” She sighed. For the third time that hour.

Dean shot a glare in her direction before settling his attention back on the highway. The heat was getting to him too, and even with sunglasses on, spots were gathering in his vision and impairing him with every piercing flash of the sun off of the windshields of passing cars. “Jay, I swear if you ask me ‘are we there yet’ one more time, I’m going to friggin pull over.”

“Ugh, FINE.” Jay wished to be nearly anywhere but here. Resignation set in and she slumped in the seat and let her bare feet hang out the window, crossing her arms. 

Dean turned the music louder, trying to drown out his own misery rather than her. He began to belt out slightly off-key to “Dazed and Confused.”

Jay cracked a half smile but hid it from Dean. 

He rapped out the solos on the steering wheel, his hands keeping perfect time as they danced upon the taught leather. 

Maybe pulling over wouldn’t be a half-bad idea, Jay thought. 

She closed her eyes, allowing the steady rumble of the engine to echo through her as hot wind whipped through the cab. She cracked them open again just long enough to witness the stretch of tight skin over Dean’s knuckles, the way the washed out wilderness blurred past behind them and accentuated the tan he’d gained from driving. 

The image was burned into her mind. To help pass the time, Jay granted herself permission to linger on it, explore it. Despite the heat outside, a new, different heat grew steadily in her core, stirring somewhere deep between her heart and soul. 

Not too long after, the Impala slowed and turned into a run down gas station--the first one in an hour. As Dean filled up, Jay took the opportunity to find shelter in some air conditioning and hopefully an ice-cold drink. Inside the store was no better. In fact, it was worse. The air was still and thick with humidity from the cooler, which buzzed and whirred as if it were possessed. 

“Sorry, Miss. Cooler is out. Hot drinks only,” a disheveled and sweat-drenched employee slouched over the register. 

“Thanks… got any pie?” Jay decided that if they had to drink hot water, they may as well have some comfort food. 

“Whatever we got is over there.” The clerk motioned with his eyes, no strength to even lift a finger. 

Jay stalked back to the car empty handed and more pissed than ever. If the summer heat was something tangible, she could just strangle it. Kick it, punch it. Anything to fight it. 

Dean finished up just in time, careful not to touch the scorching black paint and chrome on the car. “What, you go pee and come out with nothing? I’m dyin’ here!”

Jay snapped. “NO DRINKS. NO PIE. NOTHING. K?!” 

Dean was taken aback by the outburst. It was then he noticed the sunken look and dark circles under her eyes and the red sheen over her face and neck. She was getting pale and wasn’t sweating anymore.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” His brows knit as he drove slowly through the town, hoping for a decent motel to rest at for a while. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait but a few blocks before The Moonlight Motel came into view. 

Pay by the hour may not be the greatest, but at least it was cheap and would likely be empty this time of day. 

Jay was losing touch and the following events were a blur. The next thing she truly could grasp and remember was lying mostly clothed in a cold shower. Dean sat facing her atop the closed toilet seat, a worried face perched upon clasped hands. Still a bit out of it, Jay relaxed into the cool water as it slowly washed the fever down the drain. The world slipped away, replaced by a gentle, dark nothing.

When Jay stirred, the room was too dim to still be day and shadows were held at bay by only a small lamp on the far side of the dingy room. She couldn’t remember how she got there at first, but as she woke, things gradually came back to her. 

Dean had practically carried her to the room. He’d carefully set her in the bathtub and removed her belt, overshirt and boots. He’d turned on the cold water and at first, she’d protested, but slipped in and out of consciousness. He’d retrieved ice from the machine down the hall and poured it over her as he constantly monitored her vitals and temperature. 

He’d withdrawn her, a soaking wet dead weight, stripped away the sopping clothes while careful not to look where it would make her uncomfortable, and buttoned her up in the softest flannel he had. 

Jay glanced down at her right hand, as it felt stiff and sore. A needle was taped there, no longer hooked to the empty bag of saline, taped down and left in place just in case. Jay wiggled slightly when she realized that her other arm had gone quite numb beneath her and--Dean?

His soft snores disrupted as she shifted, equally mortified and elated to be nestled into the crook of his arm. Dean woke and rubbed his eyes, as if pretending he’d been awake the whole time. His voice was low and gravely from sleep. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He looked down at her, so small in his arms, furious with himself for not taking better care of her. 

“M-good,” Jay choked out, completely entranced by being so close to the hunter. Close enough for their breath to mix and his cologne to shroud her senses. Close enough to see the flecks of golds and blues and dark greens in the folds of his irises. Her breath caught and she shivered. Again. Jay mentally kicked herself for that tell. “Thank you… Sorry I was being a brat.”

“No. No, this is on me. You were sun-sick. I’m sorry. I should’ve--”

Jay put a finger to his parted lips with only the intention to stop Dean from blaming himself (like always,) but the touch sent electric pulses through her fingertips and set fire to every nerve in her body. They were impossibly soft and warm. 

Dean caught her hand tenderly in his before she could pull away and planted a slow kiss on her knuckles. He watched anxiously as her pupils dilated and her breathing became more shallow. Pulling their hands out of the way, Dean leaned forward just slightly and planted a firm, reassuring kiss to her forehead. 

Jay’s mind was a mess. This was more than familial. Were they crossing a line? Or maybe it just meant that Dean was comfortable with her, and concerned. But even as the thoughts swirled, her lips had a mind of their own. As Dean traced his nose down hers until their heads were pressed together, Jay angled upward to meet him. 

When their lips locked, there was no more question. Jay loved Dean, and he knew and he loved her back. It was soft and sweet, with their eyes shut tight, just exploring and tasting and sucking gently. 

The remainder of the trip back to the bunker was spent with Dean humming, a stupid smile plastered on his face, and Jay resting across the front seat, her head in his lap. Dean stroked her soft, brown hair adoringly. The night was much cooler and comfortably dark with only dim, scattered stars to blanket the hunters. 

~

Everything was different after the motel. The kiss. 

Almost six months had gone by and for the most part, they’d been wonderful. Jay spent more time in Dean’s room than her own, and the hunts had been good so far, like old times. 

Until this one. 

Jay, Sam, and Dean were doing a bit of recon at a local bar to dig up some answers, or at the very least, a lead. Jay had dressed to stun, as usual. (After all, men’s lips tended to be a bit more loose around a pretty girl.)

Dean was hovering. Everytime Jay got close to some useful information, Dean would scare off the burly locals with a death glare. 

Until this one. 

This man was built like a tank. He towered even over Sam by a few inches and dwarfed Jay in comparison. Sam eyed her uncomfortably from a few tables over, but he always got like that when someone was bigger than him. Dean didn’t adjust his tactics at all, and when the big guy had enough of Dean dancing around him and bumping his chair with an insincere, “sorry, man,” the guy stood up and puffed out his chest. Dean moved to both protect Jay and get in a prime fighting position, but Jay yanked him away by the collar of his jacket faster than he could complain. 

She didn’t stop until they were completely outside the bar, then shoved him into the soot-covered brick wall. Dean opened his mouth to spout something pigheaded, but stopped himself as he felt the chill of her glare more than the chill of the snow flurries swirling around them. 

“Would you just trust me to do my job? What is your problem?” 

“I do! I just--” Dean waved in a flustered motion, unable to find the words. All he knew was that when she got a little too... comfortable... with anyone, he saw red. 

Still, Jay seemed to understand. She reached up and held his face firmly between her palms, forcing him to maintain eye contact. 

“I’m yours. I know that you worry, what you fear. I’m not going to leave you. Ever. No one can ever take me from you, either, because I’ll haunt your ass and you know it.”

Dean’s bottom lips quivered just barely, and he quickly bit it back. “Don’t you even joke about that,” his voice broke. 

“De- I’m right here, okay?”

 He nodded and leaned into her until his face was buried in her neck. He squeezed his arms around her, never wanting to know what it would feel like to have to let go. 

A muffled “let’s go back to the motel” emanated from somewhere within Jay’s scarf and she nodded in response. 

Dean grasped her hand as they walked the short distance back to the rented room. Jay stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and pointing over to the edge of the woods. A startled “Dean!” escaped her, and Dean dropped her hand and withdrew his gun, ready for a fight. His plumes of hot breath on the air slowed to nearly nothing as he steadied himself and visually searched the area. 

What had she seen?

Before he could ask, something hard, round and icey struck the back of his shoulder with decent force. He spun on his heels and lowered his weapon to find Jay wide-mouthed and laughing, another snowball forming in her hands. 

“Son of a bitch! You want to play dirty, huh?” Dean howled. He holstered the pistol and raced to close the distance between them. With a squeal and a grunt, the two ended up in a heap in the wet, mushy snow. 

Jay managed to end up on top of him and leaned in for a deep kiss. She could feel the smile on his lips as his tongue graced across hers. When at last they came up for air, Dean was moving his arms and legs haphazardly. 

“A slush-angel?” Jay giggled at the sorry creation. 

“What, my art not good enough for you?” Dean retorted while wearing a shit-eating grin. “And no, actually, it’s a Yeti.” 

The wet chill began to sink into their bones, so they hurried onward. Dean fiddled with the key card but the lock gave him fits. 

“C’mon, Dean! I’m freezing to death!” 

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Hold your horses.”

At last, the door swung open and Jay rushed inside, leaving Dean to close and lock the door behind them. She’d already started stripping off the wet outer layers when Dean approached. With every step bringing him closer, his heartbeat rose and he wrestled out of his own layers. 

Jay moved to lift off her shirt, but Dean covered her hands with his, intertwining their fingers. He stood against her, and in one swift move, wrapped both of her wrists in a single firm grip behind her, and with the other, pressed an open palm against her belly. 

Jay gasped, her knees going weak with what she knew was coming next. Despite the weather, his touch was toasty. Coarse skin slid over her soft flesh, causing a friction that left Jay needing more. Heat flushed her cheeks and pooled deep in her stomach. Dean melted with every shuttered breath of hers as he stroked up and down beneath the fabric of her shirt, making sure to linger over the more sensitive areas as she twitched and bit down on her lip. 

Dean massaged her breasts with skilled fingers for a few moments, but a sensual twist of her nipple sent Jay reeling backwards, supported only by Dean’s other arm. With her head tilted back, Dean took the opportunity to kiss and suck and nip zig-zagged lines over the most delicate parts of her neck and along her collarbone. 

Jay squirmed and panted with lust-blown pupils and a cry just on the tip of her tongue. Dean’s grasp only steadied her against him more until he found himself grinding into her, faint moans already filling the air. The growing bulge in his pants drove Jay mad. She wanted to be covered by him, skin on skin, needed him inside her. 

“D-Dean please, please…” Jay whimpered and attempted to wiggle out of his hold once more to no avail. 

“Please, what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.” Dean breathed against her ear, just above a whisper. He sucked and nibbled in the hollow behind it.

A shudder wracked Jay, but this time, she didn’t mind the tell. She had him. He was hers. But right then, she needed more and she knew he was holding back. “Unnghh, please… need you, now,” she managed.

“Okay, Baby,” Dean crashed his lips to hers and shifted until Jay was suspended in the air and straddling him as he walked them towards the bed. He dropped her playfully and they scrambled to see who could lose their remaining clothes the fastest.

In a fray of scattered clothing, Dean climbed on top of her, comfortably crushing Jay into the lumpy mattress. He let his full weight rest upon her. 

“Stop it,” she giggled as his scruff tickled her cheek. 

“Why don’t you make me?” Dean grinned between planting kisses everywhere he could reach. 

Before he could react, Jay had him rolled onto the floor. She straddled him and tried to concentrate despite his hard cock resting perfectly between her hot, dripping folds. Her hair created a curtain around their faces, blocking out everything but that moment and the sensations it was riddled with. Dean’s eyes closed and mouth opened like a fish out of water. His breaths were shallow and shaky. Jay fought the urge to lift her hips just so, knowing that if she did, and she came back down upon him, his throbbing dick would line up just perfectly… and they’d end up on the floor for the remainder of their romp. 

She rose to her feet, grasping his hand and pulling him up with her. Dean’s eyes were full of question, longing. His cheeks were flushed and hot to the touch. He was melting at every touch and could do nothing about it but wait for her. 

Jay led him over to the chair and pushed him into it. He nearly tripped on his way down. That stupid smile she loved so much spread across his face again as he dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her onto him. She let out a yelp as the broad head of his large cock spread her entrance, dripping with precum, and buried itself deep inside until her walls stretched almost uncomfortably. The shock of his size was something she’d never get used to. Each time was like the first, the same butterflies swarming in her stomach, the same jolts of pure lust burning through her veins.

Dean gasped and held her close to him, trembling hands roaming her back and squeezing her ass. Jay carded her hands through his hair and pulled just slightly at the nape of his neck as he whined in approval. Those laments made her head swim and her limbs weak. Drunk on Dean, she adjusted her position until he was sunk deep into the spot that was just right, then began to move back and forth, slow and steady. Dean’s breaths stuttered and his head fell back, leaving his neck open for Jay to take into her mouth. 

“Fuck--Baby you feel s-so good,” he stammered between increasing moans and grunts. She could see in his eyes that he was losing control.

Jay cried out as he began to fight her movements with his own, pounding up in all the right spots. She arched her back as the coil wound tighter… higher… tighter… higher... until she shattered in his arms, his name and curses spilling from her gaping mouth. 

He held her through it and chased his own orgasm, sucking a mark onto her chest before he spilled into her. Everyone would know she was his, and only his. Her walls clenched in waves and he pulsed within them, his delicious sounds filling her ears as she came down. 

Jay crashed her lips into his, and he returned with fervor until they were both completely breathless. Wrapped there in Dean’s arms, Jay was home. 

No, nothing was ever the same after that first kiss. And that was okay. It was amazing.

.

.

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @taste-of-dean @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie @thinkinghardhardlythinking

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling​ @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

@waywardbaby* the smut was heavily inspired by The Scene. Tagged as promised lol

Tag List now open!

[unrelenting-jazz-hands]

He picked the wrong seat.

(This is something that’s been floating in my head. I love college!AUs and I’m just happy to be here. I like the idea of Levi studying to be a social worker and Hange being a behavioural Neuropsychology prof/researcher. plus Hange would have rats... this fic is just a place for her to have rats and rat friends.)

He didn’t know it when he first sat down on the couch, but he should have known it when a woman in maroon sweatpants staggered up to his couch.

She placed the tower of books and papers she was carrying onto the couch with a grunt that let on how heavy the pile had been. She shook out her arms before sitting on the other side of newly formed blockade. Levi glanced her way and leaned over to throw a scowl, to make sure she knew the disruption was not appreciated.

But she just sat quietly and read. So, he didn’t move, he figured it would be fine. He should have moved.

And she just sat quietly and read. So, he didn’t move, he figured it would be fine. He should have moved.

"Hange! Hey, Hange! There you are, why didn't you answer your phone?" A young man jogged over to the woman sitting on the couch next to Levi.

Levi's scowl deepened, and he glanced at his watch, not for the first time in the last 15 minutes. His own class finished over an hour ago, but Isabel's lecture wouldn't be finished for another 45 minutes. It was getting late, and as the air grew colder, the nights were getting darker. He didn't like the idea of her walking home alone at this time of night. Furlan thought he was being dramatic, they weren’t on Understreet anymore.

The kid approached the couch and dropped his bag unceremoniously at her feet. He looked a little older than Isabel. Fuck, he was dreading the day she introduces some dumb boyfriend to him.

The woman slowly looked up and seemed more startled than she should have been to see the kid in front of her. She blinked and looked at her watch.

"Oh, it's 6:45 already? Hey Jean! Sorry, I lost track of time." One of her hands was still on the stack of books that was starting to lean just a little too much for Levi's comfort.

He shifted away and glanced around the room. The atrium was busy and noisy. There wouldn't be anywhere else to sit this side of campus on a gloomy September night. The choices were to either sit here or to stand somewhere like a weirdo. He grumbled to himself and looked back down at his notes.

Jean shrugged, "All good, Hange. But, where's your phone? You didn't see my messages?"

Hange looked down at the report in her hand as though she expected herself to be holding the phone. "Oh... I thought I had it." She attempted to pat down her jacket pockets (of which there were far too many) and then tried to use her foot to move her bag towards her.

Glancing up at the kid with a slight frown, "what's up? Why? Did something happen at the lab?"

"No," Jean said with smile, "Armin was just asking what time he should tell his tutorial the kick-off party starts. And then just to say that the slides for the lecture tomorrow look good."

Levi watched out of the corner of his eyes as Jean bent down to help the woman check her bag for her phone and mumbled, "We really should get you a case you can clip to your belt or something…"

"A-ha!" Hange raised a fist clenched around a flip phone, and then suddenly, she was holding it with two hands.

Her pile of books had had enough and was about to topple over when Levi's arms shot out to steady the tower before it collapsed on the brunette. She hadn't even noticed.

He didn't mean to catch the books before they fell. He really hadn't planned on moving at all; the books weren't even falling his way. It was her own damn fault if she didn't notice. But, his body was just too used to moving quickly to catch pictures, mugs, and lamps before they could reach the floor. It wasn't a coincidence that they didn't have many breakables in the apartment, what with the way Isabel was constantly twirling around and Furlan's sleepwalking.

When Hange did notice, a few seconds later, she let out a startled yelp and attempted to use her whole body to steady her library.

"Shit, no! That's making it worse," Levi said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He steadied the pile again and kept his arms holding it up for a while longer before shooting a glare to the airhead next to him.

"Sorry, sorry!" Hange said with a laugh. She grinned at him from around the books, "thanks a bunch, though! Wild reflexes!"

He rolled his eyes, "You just weren't paying attention."

She raised an eyebrow and cracked a grin, "what? Were you staring at me?"

Levi felt his cheeks go warm and diverted his gaze from the woman's laughing eyes.

"No, I wasn't," he said curtly, "I was just sitting in the fucking danger zone."

He made sure the books were steadied before he picked up his notebook again.

The kid in front of them coughed and shifted around uncomfortably. "Thanks, man," he said while giving Levi a quick once over. "If those textbooks go down, all the paper she's stuffed into them would have ended up everywhere. It took hours to match the notes up to their text pages again."

Jean reached over and started restacking Hange's stuff on the floor while she held on. She still looked like she found the whole thing much too funny for Levi's liking. He decided not to look her way.

"You should really organize your shit better," Levi mumbled, keeping his eyes on his paper.

Hange leaned her head back against the couch, "aww, man... that's what everyone says. I've tried, guys! It just never lasts." She let out an exasperated sigh.

Jean muttered something too quiet for Levi to catch, but Hange nudged him with her foot and shot him a look.

"Well, enjoy carting around half the library then..." Levi shot her way and that, he hoped, was their last interaction.

Hange looked down at Levi's open binder, which was neatly labelled and visibly well organized.

She let out a small "huh," before turning her attention to the kid again.

"Alright, Jean! Well, the kick-off party starts at 8:30 at the Wallflower. I'll head over after my lectures and locking up the lab." She frowned, "wait, why wouldn't people join? Puppy therapy is always super busy."

Jean sighed and leaned his head to the side, "yeah, but Hange. I mean, the hype just isn't the same with rats. Plus, the lab is intense and the hours for the regular meetings are kind of random."

Levi frowned at his notes. What the fuck? Fucking weirdo...

Hange sighed, "yeah, you're right." Then shot him a bright grin, "But! I swear I'm about to get a big grant to really kick it all up a notch! We're really getting somewhere, and we can maybe take on a few more assistants next semester to help with all the data entry that's going to need to happen!" She was basically bouncing.

She paused and looked around the room quickly before returning her fiery gaze back to Jean, who was looking a little frazzled.

"And get this, Jean Boy, I've been working on something with Moblit. I can't get into it right now, but it could be really big if it all goes according to plan. Like really big!" She was bouncing again. Her hand gestures were getting more exaggerated and much too close to Levi's personal space. He decided to just lean away and scowl instead of getting dragged into another conversation.

Jean narrowed his eyes, "Wait, like big for you and research nerds or big as in normal people big."

Hange grabbed his hands, "like brand new wing big. Like the Rat Pack Club goes on vacation big."

Levi was still looking at his notes. He had to admit he was starting to be a little more curious than he was annoyed. She was trying to whisper but wasn't doing a very good job at it. God, it was like she didn't know how to be quiet.

"Wait, so this is something you're working on with Dr. Berner? I thought you were still heartbroken from him switching labs," Jean asked while trying to take his hands back. "Is he back?"

Hange shook her head, and her smile dimmed a little, "no, my ride or die still over at the Medical Imaging Lab in the comp sci building." She perked up and continued on, "But! It may have worked out for us in the end!"

Jean looked a little less tired now, "huh... well, when can you tell us about it? Who knows about it?"

Hange let out a low chuckle, "uh, well, don't tell anyone. It started as just a little side project for Moblit, Nanaba, Nifa, and me. We didn't expect it to really go anywhere. So keep it to yourself, for now, I'll let y'all know when I can."

Jean nodded. He looked determined and, suddenly, a lot younger than he had a minute ago. He gave a mock salute, "you got it, Doc!"

Hange mirrored his salute and gave him a wink. "Awesome, ok! Oh, also, did you have any questions about tomorrow's lecture?"

Jean shrugged and shook his head, "nah, I looked it over, and it's pretty chill. Cog Psyc was a fun course."

Levi glanced up and looked at the top right corner of his notes. Intro to Cognitive Psychology.

"And that's exactly the vibe we want this semester! Fun!" Hange exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

"Yeah… ok, fun. I can do that," Jean mumbled. "I'll tell Armin," he said as he turned to go. The kid waved lazily over his shoulder, "See ya tomorrow, Hange!"

"Get home safe, Jean! Tell Sasha and Connie I say hello," Hange waved to the back of the kid's head before leaning back and slouching down.

"Rat Pack Club goes on vacation. Ha! Take that monkey brain," Hange muttered with a smile. She closed her eyes like she getting ready to take a long nap in the middle of the atrium, which was getting less busy as time went by.

"Oh!" She exclaimed and shot up and turned to face Levi with a much-too-bright smile, "I forgot to introduce myself!"

She stuck out a hand that was covered in ink smudged. Levi felt the corner of his lips fall and held back a snarky comment; he really was trying to be less pissy, as Isabel put it. He sighed and reached out to shake her hand. He had hand sanitizer in his pocket.

"I'm Zoe Hange, but please call me Hange! Nice to meet you, and thanks for saving my books!"

Levi nodded, "Levi." He went to take his hand back, but the weirdo was still shaking it.

"You're taking Psyc 221 tomorrow, right? That's awesome. I hope you're ready for a heckin' good semester, Levi!" Hange was still shaking his hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, it sounds great," Levi mumbled as he jerked his hand away from her grip.

"Is this your first semester here? Transfer student? Do you live on campus? What courses are you taking?" Hange kept going as though he looked happy to be there instead of inching away and gathering his papers to leave.

"Second semester here, transferred from Wallrose College," Levi muttered. He didn't want to admit it, but Hange's enthusiasm was putting him on edge. What the fuck was she on?

Hange nodded enthusiastically, "That's great! Welcome, and if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask! I'll be your lecturer for PSYC 221. My lab's down in the Neuro wing, so feel free to stop by if you have any questions!" She pointed down the hall that had a staircase at the end of it. "I always really enjoy having some older students," she continued, "at least someone to make eye contact with when the kids make a reference I don't know." Hange smiled at him before rummaging through her pocket and proceeding to hand him a business card. He didn't want to take it, but he also didn't want to piss off his professor. Fuck it, whatever.

"I know what you mean. My younger sister is always trying to get me to do these stupid fucking dances for TikTok or whatever the fuck," Levi grumbled out as he looked over the card. His eyes flicked upwards to meet hers.

"rat_attack2000@maria.edu?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't let it leak into his voice, but, shit… She had to be a few years younger than he was, and she was a professor and director of a research lab. He didn't want to say he was impressed, but he was. But she was also a fucking weirdo.

Hange nodded and smiled widely. She reached back into her pocket, grabbed the card back from Levi, and scrawled something down with the newly retrieved pen. The pen was labelled, pocket pen.

"Yeah! It's the email address for the club I started with some students. My research lab has been doing some behavioural studies with rats, and it's hard not to fall for their little paws and their little eyes. So, every now and then, we get together and hang out and chill with some rats. This Friday, we are having our kick-off party. You should stop by!"

Hange handed him the card back. It had a time, a date, and an address.

"This is more of a social gathering at a bar near campus, not really a regular meeting. It's mostly just a bunch of research assistants and a few of us old folk having some drinks," Hange shrugged, still smiling. She wasn't done, "the usual meetings are chilling with the rats and throwing around ideas. Sometimes the students pitch us some experiments, and then we give them feedback."

Levi didn't think he would go. To the meetings or the party tomorrow. Hell, he knew for sure he wasn't going to go. Still, he nodded and muttered out a half-assed, "sure."

"Plus! The kids don't stay too long at the parties. They eventually head out after a few drinks to the next destination to get trashed where their profs can't see them. So it's only rowdy for a little while. It's been a while since I made it to the second location. I'm not that old, but I'm not that young anymore." She laughed lightly, and Levi was caught off guard by how pretty the sound was.

"I can't Fridays," Levi said as he pocketed the card, "I work Friday afternoons."

Hange nodded, "It's 8:30 to late-thirty, so stop on by if you want! Or if you know someone who'd-"

She was cut off by someone dropping their bag onto Levi's lap.

"What the fuck?" He started, looking up with a scowl. Of fucking course it was Isabel. He looked at his phone and saw 5 missed calls.

"Dude, what's the point of having a phone if you never answer it," Isabel said with a little more sass than Levi was used to. His brow furrowed. He'd ask about that later.

"Don't be a shit," he said gruffly, but still more gently than his usual tone. She made him worry like that. "My phone was on silent."

"Hi! You must be Levi's sister! He mentioned he had a younger sister." Hange stood up and grabbed Isabel's hand with a smile, "I'm Hange. I'll be your brother's professor starting tomorrow. Should I be keeping an eye on him? I feel like he's going to give me a hard time." Hange gave Isabel a wink and a smirk, which the younger girl returned. She looked a little less tense than she had a minute ago.

"Pfft, Nah. He's pretty bland." Isabel replied and shook Hange's hand with significantly more enthusiasm than Levi had. "I'm Isabel. Thanks for engaging with Mr. Grumpy here. He usually just sits there like a weirdo."

Levi stood up and thrust Isabel's bag back into her arms, "Ok, time to go." He turned on his heel and started walking away at a brisk pace.

Hange shouted out, "bye, Levi! See ya tomorrow!"

Levi waved over his shoulder but stopped when he didn't hear Isabel following behind him.

Isabel was still standing next to Hange, who was staring at her pile of books. He groaned and made his way back to the couch as Hange leaned down and tried to pick up the stack.

He placed a hand on Isabel's shoulder and attempted to steer her away.

"Isabel let's go," Levi said.

The young lady shook her head, "Nah. I'm catching a ride with some friends. We're gonna go get some food before heading home! So don't worry about me!" Isabel gave him a look and gestured towards Hange, still mapping out a game plan. Levi pretended not to notice her look and shot her a glare of his own.

"Isabel. Dammit, why did you tell me that before I stayed till the end of your classes?"

Hange let out a chortle and glanced up at them, "Ha! Classic. Have fun, kid!"

"Well, since you don't need to worry about me," Isabel said sweetly, "you're free right now. Hange, let Levi help you with this!" She shoulder-checked Levi and stuck out her tongue at him with a grin.

"I'm sure she's fine," Levi said.

"Oh, man! I would so appreciate it!" Hange all but yelled, standing up suddenly. Her head smashed right into Levi's chin, making them both groan and bring their hands up to their respective injuries.

"Dammit, four-eyes. Be fucking careful," Levi growled. He shot Isabel a look, but it didn't stop her giggling. He was losing his edge.

"Ok, bye! I have my phone, and it won't be on silent!" She waved and hurried off in the direction of the exit. There was a group of girls who waved, laughing, before walking off together. Levi let out an exasperated sigh, but he was happy to see she was making friends. She deserved it.

Groaning, he looked back down. Hange… was just sitting on the floor, next to her pile of books. No, she wasn't just sitting there. She was reading a book.

"Yo, four-eyes. You want help or not."

"Hmm?" She looked up as though unsure of who was talking to her. She blinked her big, brown eyes and then smiled. Her lips formed a little oh, and though she only just remembered where she was. "Oh, yes! Sorry, I got side-tracked there for a minute. How's your chin! I'm really sorry about that!"

She stood and reached out to touch Levi's face.

He took a step back, "You were just touching the floor. I don't want you touching my face!" He felt his cheeks warm up a bit and shifted his gaze. He picked up most of the stupid, fucking books.

She chuckled and reached down to pick up the rest. She looked at him with a grin and replied, "that's a fair point, Shorty."

"Shorty?" Levi all but dropped the books. "Whatever, Four-eyes," he said and stormed away.

He heard some undignified sputtering as she tried to think of a comeback. He smirked. Good, she should feel bad.

"You just called me Four-eyes? What, I can't call you Shorty?"

"Not when I'm doing you a favour," he shot back. " And after you try to break my face!"

"No! Come back, Shor- Levi! I mean... I mean, come help me, Levi," she sounded whiney. He wasn't sure if he liked that sound.

He turned around and saw her trying to pick up the stack again. He let out a sigh and dragged his feet back to the fucking weirdo, again.

"Oh my fucking god… Why do you even have this many books with you?" He said gruffly as he took an armful of the offending items.

"Research!" Hange exclaimed as though it was obvious. She started to walking away at a surprisingly fast pace.

"What the fuck, slow down, weirdo," Levi said. In-fucking-credible.

"Well, come on then!" Hange said, glancing over her shoulder. "My office isn't too far away."

It sure felt like it was, though.

After winding their way through the halls and then down several sets of stairs, Hange finally unlocked a door and turned on the lights of her office. It was absolutely filled with books, with stacks of papers covering every surface. She shuffled into the room, stepping over a few plastic boxes, and placed her cargo on her chair. It was the only surface that had any space. Hange motioned for Levi to hand her his share, which she placed on the ground, next to the chair.

"Fuck, Hange. How the hell do you ever find anything?" Levi said, unable to hide the growing frustration from his tone. He didn't like clutter, and he really didn't like this room. "This is a fucking mess."

"Oh, it's not that bad! I can find what I need eventually!" She waved her hand and flicked off the lights. Hange picked up two plastic boxes, letting out a small grunt as she did so.

"Alright! Let's head out. Close the door, would you?" She nodded to the open door.

"What's in the boxes?" Levi asked, shutting the door. He had no idea why he was still here. Why was he still here, talking to this lunatic. God, he shuttered thinking of the stacks of paper in that little office.

"Oh, just old notebooks that I need to shred, some speakers I need to donate, and then a lot of rat food to bring to the shelter."

He had forgotten about the rats.

He looked over at the tall, lanky woman. She was obviously struggling. Shit.

"Give me those," he muttered as he took the boxes from her.

She let out an audible sigh as she shook out her arms, "oof, thanks a bunch! Ok, it's over this way!"

Levi glanced her way, "what is?"

"My apartment!"

He felt weird about this. He didn't know this person. Well, he did, or he would know her. Tomorrow, anyways. It still felt weird. He wasn't sure he really knew why. He nodded silently and followed her.

He paused when he looked down.

"Are you wearing fucking crocs?"

[jenonctcity]

Zhong Chenle, Park Jisung – Fluff, Crack

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Parent!Au

Warnings: Jisung and Chenle babysitting.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Renjun leaves his daughter Jiyeon, in Chenle and Jisung’s care. (Read My Responsibility first for this to make more sense.)

 Renjun had known Chenle and Jisung for a long time. They were younger than himself, Jeno, Jaemin, and Haechan, but still played a part in their group. The only difference is, they didn’t live with them and instead shared a small apartment nearby. Chenle and Jisung looked up to their older brothers, which still baffled Renjun as he hardly thought of them as role models. But still, Chenle enjoyed art and was training with the local tattoo studio to become a tattoo artist, while Jisung was leeching off of Jaemin’s knowledge on car racing. Chenle had bleached blond hair and a nose ring, his arms littered with tattoos that he illegally started getting when he was only sixteen years old, and he often lined his eyes with smudged black eyeliner, giving him the intimidating look he was so desperately going for. But despite his edgy appearance, he was a complete sweetheart and couldn’t stop himself from talking all the time. Jisung, the quiet baby of the group who was constantly saying dumb things and being laughed at by his hyung’s. His appearance suited his personality, with his black hair that was a little bit too long and would dangle in front of his eyes, and his baby face that often got him whatever he wanted in the world. It’s how he persuaded Jaemin to let him drive his car when he was only fifteen years old and how he ended up being Jaemin’s co pilot in the car.

However much he loved his little brothers; he didn’t trust them to watch his infant daughter. But he didn’t have much choice, needing so desperately to have a date night with you that he decided that one night wouldn’t hurt. It had started off with him putting a message in the boys group chat, asking if anyone was available to babysit just for a few hours. Everyone said they were busy, apart from Chenle and Jisung, who seemed overly excited and begged to him to let them watch Jiyeon. In the end he caved in and agreed to it. He laid out the ground rules to them, which they seemed to dismiss with a roll of their eyes and soft sighs, claiming they knew how to watch a baby.

“She’ll be fine! How hard can it be?” Chenle laughed, Jiyeon sat on his hip as he watched you and Renjun pull your shoes on in the doorway of the apartment.

“You don’t even want to know how hard it can be.” Renjun sighed, leaning forward and kissing Jiyeon on the head. “Bye Jiyeonie, daddy will be home soon. I’m so sorry about leaving you with these clowns, stay strong baby girl.” He mumbled against her hair to which she squirmed in Chenle’s hold and gave Renjun a toothy grin.

“Dada!” She squealed and kicked out her little legs. 

“She’ll be fine, bye now!” Jisung pushed you and Renjun out of the door, shutting it behind you before turning to Chenle with a wide smile. “What shall we do first?” Unbeknownst to Renjun, the young men had made a list of fun things they could do with Jiyeon. It was probably a good thing that Renjun didn’t know about this list, because he probably wouldn’t appreciate number 4 on the list – see who can throw Jiyeon into the air the highest. Chenle looked down at the baby on his hip, smiling widely and taking her through to the living room.

“See who her favourite uncle is.” He put her on the floor, sitting down on the sofa in front of her and patting the seat beside him for Jisung to sit with him. Jisung sat down and they both stared at Jiyeon. “Jiyeonie, who do you like more? Uncle Lele or Uncle Sungie?” She looked at them both, her tiny fist in her mouth as she gazed at them with wide eyes. In the end she turned her head to look at the bright lights on the television, opting to watch the kids cartoons that were playing instead of giving her uncles the attention they so desperately craved.

“Hm…that’s a disappointment.” Jisung mumbled, reaching forward and scooping her up from the floor to sit her between them both.

After an hour of doing nothing but watching kids cartoons, Jiyeon started to squirm, making a fuss and whining as she wiggled on the sofa.

“Fuck sake Jisung, give me some warning before you let one rip like that you disgusting bastard.” Chenle cupped his hands over his mouth and nose, grimacing and shooting Jisung a glare. Jisung covered his mouth and nose too, pulling a face of disgust and shaking his head at Chenle.

“It wasn’t me!” He whined, not liking that he was being accused of a smell that he didn’t make.

“Well it wasn’t me either…” The two of them both looked at each other and then slowly looked down at the baby lodged between them who was staring up at them both with a sad expression on her face. Both their heads snapped up at the same time to look at each other as they realised what the smell was. “You can do it!” Chenle pointed at Jisung quickly and stood up.

“What?! No! That’s not fair!” Jisung stood up too and stomped his foot against the floor.

“Well it hasn’t been that long since you’ve been out of diapers so you should be the one to do it!” Chenle argued, grabbing the changing bag and thrusting it into Jisung’s arms.

“Fuck off. You’re barely three months older than me!” Jisung argued back, their voices raising as they both started to argue over who was going to do the gruelling task of changing the diaper. They were cut off by a cry that ripped through the air, Jiyeon’s sitting where they had left her with her head tipped back, sobs leaving her mouth as tears trailed down her red face.

“Just do it!” Chenle ordered him, picking up Jiyeon and holding her at arm’s length. Jisung sighed and laid down the changing mat, groaning as Chenle laid her on it. He didn’t waste any time, taking off her bottom half of clothes and cleaning her up, thankful when her cries subsided to little whimpers as she waited for her uncle to finish changing her. He quickly put on her diaper, widening his eyes when she rolled over and crawled away the second he’d fastened it on her. They discarded of the dirty diaper and wipes, and Jisung washed his hands three times before he was satisfied with their cleanliness. They left Jiyeon to play on her own with her building blocks in her nappy and yellow t-shirt that had ‘Little Angel’ written on it in white writing.

They ended up playing on the floor with the energetic baby for two whole hours, both of them starting to feel fatigued from how much she had them running around. She couldn’t yet walk, but she was quick at crawling and she was in hysterical laughter when Jisung and Chenle would pretend to chase her around the apartment.

“Kids are hard work.” Jisung mumbled, Jiyeon slouching between the two of them once more, lazily staring at the television while sipping at her lukewarm bottle of milk. The two young men both had cracked open a bottle of beer each as a reward for their hard work. They sipped at the alcohol slowly when Chenle started to laugh quietly, glancing over at Jisung and not being able to top his laughter. “What?” Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what Chenle was laughing at. “Oh no, you aren’t thinking of the time she pee’d on me are you? I thought you’d gotten over that by now! It was ages ago and it’s not funny anymore! It was really warm and gross and I-”

“No you fool.” Chenle cut him off, the amused smile still on his face. “I just thought about how funny it would be if she had a little moustache.” He started to laugh again, Jisung slowly joining in on the laughter.

“Wait I’ll get a pen.” Jisung stood up and looked around the apartment, grabbing the first black pen he could find. He handed it over to Chenle, knowing he was the one who was more likely to draw a decent moustache. Chenle sat forward, pulling the rubber teat out of her mouth with a little pop. She stared at them both but didn’t make a fuss, watching Chenle’s hand as it got closer to her face with the pen in his grip. She went cross eyed, staring at his hand as he drew a perfect moustache in black ink on her top lip. They both burst into laughter as they stared at Chenle’s masterpiece, high fiving each other in triumph. Jiyeon let out a soft giggle, only laughing because her uncles were laughing so loudly. After they’d calmed down, Jisung went to the toilet and Chenle grabbed a wet wipe out of the diaper bag and started to wipe at her top lip. His stomach dropping and eyes widening when only the tiniest bit of the ink came off onto the wipe, the moustache still very much evident on her top lip.

“Uh oh…” He started to rub harder at her top lip until the skin started to go red and she whined as it started to irritate her skin. He stopped and gulped. “Jisung…it was nice knowing you.”

“What do you mean?” He walked out of the bathroom, wiping his wet hands on his jeans as he looked at Chenle.

“We used permanent marker…”

“Oh shit! Renjun is going to kill us!!!” His eyes widened and he gulped in his worry.

“What do we do?” Chenle stop up, tossing the wet wipe into the bin and pacing around the living room.

“Move. We’ll start new lives as Zhong Jisung and Park Chenle.” Jisung rubbed his hands over his eyes as he racked his brain for ideas.

“Jisung do me a favour, stop talking.” Chenle deadpanned, picking up Jiyeon and rushing her to Renjun’s bedroom where her cot was. He set her in the cot and patted her head. “Night night Jiyeon!” He rushed out of the room, leaving the wide awake and confused baby in the dark. As he shut Renjun’s door, the front door opened, revealing Renjun and you. “You’re back! We’ve got to dash, Jiyeon is in her cot, adios!” Chenle grabbed Jisung by the collar as he passed him and dragged the boy out with him.

“That was weird…” You mumbled with your eyebrows furrowed, taking off your shoes and heading through to the kitchen to prepare the two of you some hot chocolate before bed.

“Yeah it was…” Renjun opened his bedroom door, turning on the light and gasping loud enough to make you nearly drop the mug in your hand. Jiyeon was smiling widely at him, stood up against the bars of her cot and reaching out for him. “THEY GAVE MY BABY A MOUSTACHE!!!” He rushed to her and scooped her up into his arms, frowning when held her. “And they put your diaper on back to front.” He sighed with a roll of his eyes, kissing her forehead and cuddling her to his chest tightly. You rushed into the room and had to stifle a laugh when you saw the state of Jiyeon. Not only had they given her a moustache and put her diaper on the wrong way, her hair was a complete mess and her t-shirt was covered in dried milk.

“Christ…” You mumbled, leaving the room with wide eyes so that you could laugh to yourself without Renjun knowing.

“Daddy is so sorry; I’m never leaving you with those buffoons ever again I promise.” He kissed her forehead and bounced her around as he held her close to his chest.

“Fuck!” She squealed and looked up at Renjun, not knowing what she just said made her fathers stomach drop through the floor and his blood boil. Needless to say, Chenle and Jisung had a very angry father on their doorstep the next day. 

What did you think of this? Shall I do more extra parts for My Responsibility? Let me know!

[pernicious-pastas]

Do you have any headcannons of what you think the creeps look/act like?

yes of course !! sorry this took so long ^^; (long post ahead! tried to fit as many as i could haha)

Ej - Has slicked back hair due to it getting in his face, tar really only comes out when he becomes overly emotional, very built and TALL (6’4 baby !!) big hands and CLAWS, quiet and soft spoken, but has that ‘don’t fuck with me because you’ll regret it’ vibes.

Jeff - He looks Rough, his mouth scar looks fresh but it’s actually healed (and gets kinda crusty if he opens his mouth too wide). He slouches, but when he doesn’t he’s 5’7. He’s actually really funny if you pay attention to his subtle humor but if you laugh too hard he’ll try to one up himself and make it weird.

Liu- he’s Very attractive but he’s insecure because of his scars (and sully). He constantly has his scarf on and will be anxious without it. he’s 5’8 and has Perfect posture. he has PTSD because of what happened with jeff but actively tries to reconnect with his brother.

Lj- Mans is Tall !! 7’ when not slouching. He has nightmares and worries constantly about people he cares about abandoning him because of what happened. sometimes he likes to scare his fellow pastas and start giggling for no reason, then he’ll cackle while walking out of the room. it gets them every time. he likes to wear regular clothes! most of them don’t fit very well but when he can he gets baggy, monochromatic clothes to wear around the mansion.

Jason the toy maker - He’s 6’1 ! he’s a genuinely nice person but many creeps are wary of him because of his manipulative tendencies and anger issues. He spends most of his time working on his dolls in solitude.

Toby - He has a really goofy smile and has dimples on both sides of his face. he gets really cranky on missions because he just wants to Sleep. He is 5’6 and regularly thinks about what happened before he became a proxy. Yeah he doesn’t know exactly what took place (amnesia caused by slender), but he has a vauge idea due to his nightmares.

Tim - Angry at a lot of things so he likes to takes it out during missions, being tims target is Not something to look forward to when he’s having a bad day. he’s 5’8 and has Amazing arms so you give some you loose some.

Brian - He likes to bottle up every emotion he feels until they all come flooding out. Like, he’ll be watching tv and randomly scream at the top of his lungs and sob for a good hour, after that he’s fine for another month or so. 6’0 and has a cute gap in his teeth, he never shows his face, though.

Jane - Was insecure about the scars on her face/body, but she’s come to accept them now. She still wears her mask though (mostly because she thinks it’s pretty). She’s 5’9 and Will steal your bitch if you make her angry, power lesbian!!

Sally- Soft baby! She’s 4’10 and spends most of her time watching tv and playing games with splendorman or female pastas. She doesn’t go near the male pastas since her death besides ben and the slender brothers.

Ben - Spends a lot of his time coding, hacking, and general pasta wiping (wiping evidence of the pastas online). he prides himself on a 4 minute take down of a picture of E. Jack that sufaced on a triangle scheme website from 2011 (Jeff had put it there to see how long it would take Ben). he’s 5’5 and his eyes rarely bleed–they really only do if he hasn’t blinked in a while or is frustrated.

Bloody Painter - Spends most of his days locked in his room painting and sketching. He’s very quiet and has a bad resting bitch face, so most new pastas tend to avoid him which can get to him. Although he doesn’t really interact with the pastas besides a handful. 6’ and proud baby.

Puppeteer - Never really at the mansion unless slender calls him in (and even then he’s out the door within an hour of a call). when his Is in the mansion he catches up with bp and the others. His strings are Gorgeous, he likes his eyes but lowkey thinks his mouth glowing is weird, he’s 6’3.

Slenderman - Stern and has a soul crushing aura. He’s rarely in the mansion besides his study. normally found stalking prey he lured in the woods. 8’8 and terrifying.

Splendorman - Generally has a calming aura. Oldest of the slender brothers and lowkey proud of it. 9’2 and stronger than trender and slender combined, has rocked Zalgos shit Many times over the course of the ‘beginning’. Loves playing with sally and yes, he Did glue to bells on his tendrils on.

Trenderman - Quiet, but not afraid not call people out on their clothing choice (mostly Jeff). He’ll sew up clothes even if no one asks. He’s Very bored, so he has made Countless stunning outfits over the years. Definitely the weakest of the brothers but is Not weak by any other paranormal standards, 8’ and likes to hide his trendrils unless an outfit calls for them, he thinks they take too much away from his clothing.

Zalgo - All I gotta say is fear him. 10 feet tall and Always ready for a show down with slender. not much is known by anyone but his followers and the brothers.

((can i just say i love jason but i never him in any work and it makes me 🥺🥺🥺 but anyways THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS !!! Again, sorry it took so long))

[sanchoyo]

Looks like you’re gonna have to gush some more cuz I meant in general uwu🌸

🌺😌🤟 Always happy to! Okay here’s just some General bnha Thoughts ™ Mostly Lov centric. You asked for them, and you said GUSH about them, so here’s. A Lot! :)

This isn’t a lov one but it’s really funny so I thought I’d put it out there:

-when bnha was first gaining traction on tumblr, it was all art of Tsuyu. I have no idea why. People were talking about the funky frog lesbian superhero anime. Maybe it was just the people I was following, maybe it was a general trend, but I LOVED her design!!! my fav color and frogs r super cute!!! And I already loved superhero media, so I was like. I’ll watch it. For Her. SO. FROPPY IS THE REASON I WATCHED/READ BNHA. I went in thinking she was the protag and I was sooo confused when Izuku was... tbh I still think it’d be more interesting if she was lmaooo aus where? ...seriously if anyone has good aus where this is the case send them LOL

-I don’t actually feel that bad abt what Shigaraki’s doing. I still feel bad for him. I’m this post. yes im an apologist. its not my fault hes sexy and has been running around shirtless. hes a lesbian icon like thor is. I want to touch his hair. hes never done anything wrong in his life. he could kill all might, deku, bakugo, whatever, I’d still be sayin this. I don’t feel bad for gt. like. was anyone genuinely attached to him? lmao

-well u know how spinner’s quirk is just sticking to things? We haven’t seen him use it in canon except like, (1) time iirc?? I think this is probably bc he’s embarrassed about it even in front of the league... I loooove the idea that he gets more comfortable with it around them :”) and also how shigaraki. um. does that falling asleep thing while standing up with his eyes open, canonly? (which I still love lmfao) Imagine someone in the league walking in a dark room, turning on the light n just seeing. Spinner upside down, stuck to the ceiling asleep bc heat rises and its Warmer Up There. (cold blooded thing like tsuyu?? come ON give him a big fuzzy coat and scarf...) and Shigaraki in the center of the room, slouched but still standing, eyes open and motionless. Theyre both sleeping. Whomever sees it just...slowly walks out. LMAO

-Toga roller derby au. No deep thoughts I just think she’d be good at it. 

-Toga 100% is a social butterfly and could befriend anyone if they didn’t just judge the fact she was trying to stab them smh :/ (ok but seriously anytime I see cute friendships with her n the other kids im like :) aw. I feel like her and Camie...would be good friends. Camie feels chill enough to be like ‘ok whatever thats totally fine I forgive you!!’ LMAO we love airheads here)

-HOW DID TOGA GET SO GOOD AT FIGHTING? We know she’s been on the run since middle school or so, but good enough to pin Deku down after he’s been formally trained at a ~hero school~ for a while? (she pinned him TWICE I think, once when his arms were messed up, but, the other time as Camie, so? AND THEN WAS ONE OF THE 100 PEOPLE TO GO THRU TO THE 2ND ROUND OF THAT? even tho she didn’t bc she had to leave) good enough to beat Aizawa in a fight and stab him? A professional hero and teacher for YEARS? Is that seriously just street training??? Can people acknowledge how amazing her combat skills and reflexes are??? More Toga appreciation when?? Also her backstory??? SO subversive and incredible, hate when people reduce her to just a ~typical anime yandere~ :/

-Tomura doing stuff with his hands/fingers to train his quirk!!! And to learn to be careful with it!! obv I’m a Big Fan of him playing piano to do this and video games are prob the canon answer, but like, guitar or any stringed instrument that requires Hands would work too. Or knitting/sewing? EMBROIDERING? ??? Please, let me give you the mental image of him knitting aggressively while mentally scheming, watching a twitch streamer or smth too while doing it. (Doing stuff with your hands is a great way to let your mind come up with creative stuff, that’s how I come up with writing/drawing ideas 70% of the time)

-Tomura actually PREFERS cutesty, relaxing games. I mean, he does fighting and bloody stuff irl, games are a way to relax...he’ll play shooters and gta type games with The Lads, but. on his own?? animal crossing. pokemon. kirby games. mario. zelda. BIG ZELDA FAN (not saying this bc I, personally, am biased, but,) slime rancher, stardew valley, funny simulator games... he really enjoys those :”) God forbid he has a kid bc they’re 100% getting named after a viddy game character unless someone can talk him out of it LOL. Toga and Tomura are that animal crossing /doom meme where she’d be asking for doom and him asking for animal crossing :”)

-Bits and pieces of Before are kinda stuck in Kurogiri’s brain, but like. mostly useless stuff the doctor didn’t care about removing. Like, types of clouds. So Tomura kinda picks up on stuff like that. He can just look at clouds and tell you what type they are because Kurogiri used to take him up to high places in the city and point them out to calm Tomura down from a panic attack when he was younger. He can tell you if the sky looks like it’ll rain with a 80% accuracy rate too. 

-Kurogiri left food out for kitties in the alley beside the bar. They weren’t allowed in for Health Reasons (it IS a bar with sanitation standards!!) And Tomura really wouldn’t stop it or encourage it either way so long as Kurogiri did his job, but occasionally would stand outside with Kurogiri and just watch the kitties from a distance. If any approached he’d go back in (lowkey afraid he’d hurt them by touching them :( ) They kinda kept that between them tho, bc they both Know AFO is a big bag of dicks and no fun

-people have pointed out how similar aizawa and tomura look. this was 100% the intention. tomura has a hatecrush on him. THIS IS SO FUNNY AND HORRIBLY AWKWARD FOR KUROGIRI LMAO

-Sako??? Mr. Dramatic?? Opera fan. Drama kid. Like, obviously, but. Really. He is. I feel like he can speak a dozen languages. I also feel like he used to be an overachiever but got too ambitious. He was def some kind of leader at one point of a diff Group or something that fell apart. I LOVE how creative he is with his quirk and the magician theme??? incredible. I don’t show him enough love but I Love Clowns :o)

-I don’t care what their canon heights are. Spinner and Dabi? short kings. My height hcs are (tallest to shortest) Kurogiri, Twice, Sako (who also has heels on his boots and a tall hat, keep in mind), Tomura, Magne (Tomura and Magne are about the same height imo) Toga, Spinner, Dabi. LISTEN. Dabi has short energy. Sorry. it’s true tho

-This is a semi-popular hc I think bc I KNOW I’ve seen it before, but Dabi having Terrible Vision and needing glasses is so so good. (seriously, with burns THAT close to his eyeballs, how could he not?) 

-he tries to be a tough loner coolguy. you’d think he’d smoke, but I hc his ‘weak constitution’ comes with weak lungs (esp from years of a flame quirk?? inhaling smoke over so much time is SO bad for you, most people who die in fires actually die of smoke inhalation...) so he’s got like, an inhaler, can’t smoke, actually gets carsick, needs glasses, overuses quirk to save friends constantly, likes napping, a little awkward and rude. Tomura put him in charge of the vanguard so he’s smart, and good with strategies too, like a nerd. this is the Dabi I wanna see, not the popular fandom version of him tbh also step on hawks one more time sir :”)

-I wish all the lov fics weren’t?? villain!deku like I said earlier, but also, chatfics? I have nothing against them but most of them are just a bombardment of Memes with NO PLOT!!! Listen. text/chatfics CAN have plot and be an interesting way to tell a story. I almost want to write one just to show what I mean...

I know I’ve said I like spinaraki and blackmagic, but I am a multishipper, so a few ships I don’t talk about that I like that involve the lov in some way:

-toga/any of the 1A girls??? or Camie??? super interesting. ALSO in the radio drama, bakugo’s voice actor said Toga was his favorite girl??? so?? bakugo/toga ?? I WANT TO SEE IT. but specifically my fav dynamic with her is when someone ELSE is the one to like her first, it’s what she deserves.

-Kurogiri/aizawa/mic?? any variety of that is also 👌🏻 I also kinda wanna see kurogiri/all might bc. Dads. COME ON. they bond over ‘well, I raised him, and you want to have a part in his life now?? ok. earn it. prove it. I’ll screen you first’ or something LMAO they’re both genuinely concerned for the boy, and SOOO biased. let them bond.

-WAIT WHERE IS THE MIC/COMPRESS CONTENT. THEYRE BOTH DRAMATIC. ENEMIES TO LOVERS?? HELLO??? SOMEONE?? ANYONE. rarepair hours

-giran/twice is cute. like he was hyping him up so much and so ready to go save him...

-dabi/magne where is the content. when. why not everywhere??? I’ve also seen magne/compress which was cute!! or twice/magne? they’re the big sibs of the lov...

-dabi/spinner?? come ON dabi could get over his learned biases and spend time with him and they could hold hands. I want them to.

-dabihawks. Obviously bc the Drama. yes even still, don’t @ me. (also, shigahawks, seen some REAL interesting fics with it tbh) or spinahawks?? adding hawks to a ship is like adding extra chili powder. makes it SPICY dramatic)

-nine/tomura don’t @ me once again. both kinda afo’s playthings, nine obviously was the test for tomura’s new upgrades...they both love their friends...That Scene in the Flower field </3 hmmm tragicships are fun.

-tomura/mirko. more enemies to lovers. big fan of her and bunnies. remember when he wore bunny ears in bnha smash. (ok its crack but. CUTE.) 

-I’ve also seen shiganatsu and shigafuyu and I’m like. these are cute, but also Dabi’s reaction always makes me cry laugh. so good.

-MOST EVERYONE IN THE LOV IS LGBTQA+!!! heres my personal headcanons:

Toga: pan or bi (CANON BASICALLY)

Magne: transwoman (CANON BABEY) bi, leans towards men. (her crush on dabi in bnha smash... uwu content where)

Shuichi: gets sooooo flustered canonly, I think he’d go for the first person Who Hit On Him (I can see him being the target of those mean pranks where someone says ‘my friend likes you!!’ and the friend is like ‘eww!!’ :(((( ) he’s super hesitant for romance, lots of repressed stuff. gay but takes sooo long to realize it bc he thinks most women are conventionally pretty Aesthethically, feels obligated to Like Them, but has bad self esteem so never goes after them, then only likes (1) guy so hes like?? is this allowed?? is this allowed???? (HES LIKE. IN LOVE WITH SHIGARAKI)

Dabi: bi but rly hasn’t ever gotten to date anyone, so he’s actually more reserved about it and while he’ll tease, he absolutely is absent and kinda oblivious (again, I KNOWWWW bnha smash isnt canon, but. my god. when magne is hitting on him and he Just Doesnt Understand.) also hes ace

Tomura: doesn’t care. (just prob says ‘its whatever’) trans/nonbinary (i’M NOT PROJECTING, BUT. :’/) probably goes with like, the label queer if any but doesn’t care much for labels

Kurogiri: bi??? kind of??? I say kind of bc well, I hc U Know Whom as bi, I feel like thatd carry over but he’d be really avoidant to date anyone bc hes gotta Watch His Kid u know? this is gonna sound surprising but I think he’d be the type to be like ‘ok we can have a one night stand/fling BUT it cant get personal bc I have a Job to Do for my Son so don’t get up in your feelings’ and act a little coldly at first or very ..not personable... depending on who it was he’d prob turn around eventually, esp if that person valued his feelings/job :”)

Sako: that mans Not Straight. I hc him as gay and also trans :3c

Twice: Bi and HAS dated prob more than anyone else in the league imo, super comfortable with his sexuality and supportive of everyone else’s :)

ok that’s about all I can think of atm, come back in 5 minutes and my brain will refill with lov headcanons :3 thank you for asking!!

[cerezsis]

A Growing Family

Chapter One: Heartbeat

Series Summary: When the Avatar discovers she’s pregnant, everyone celebrates. When a prisoner on trial for crimes against humanity discovers she’s pregnant, there’s no celebration.

--

           The car came to a halt as the young engineer put it in park. Taking the keys out of ignition, she glanced over at her passenger. Korra had barely said a word since she picked her up from the ferry docks, and had been slouched in her seat with her eyes closed for the last several blocks. Even for someone who was known to have claimed that the morning was evil, this was unusual for her.

           “Hey, are you ok?” Asami asked, “You haven’t said a word the entire drive.”

           Korra slowly peeked her eyes open, seeing her girlfriend’s worried face. She sat up straight, though her movements were very sluggish.

           “I’ve been better,” she admitted, “I started not feeling good last night, and I didn’t get much sleep.”

           Asami’s face fell in sympathy. “What doesn’t feel good?”

           “My stomach, mostly. I couldn’t even eat breakfast.”

           Reaching over, Asami put a hand on Korra’s shoulder, giving her a comforting smile. “Just hang in there, alright? We’ll only be here an hour or two. After we’re done, I’ll take you back to the island and make you a pot of tea. Sound good?”

           Korra mustered a smile. “You’re the best.”

           After a quick peck on the cheek, the two women got out of the car and walked into city hall. The overall tone of the building already felt different now that Zhu Li was in office. From the new décor, to the much less tense demeanor in the staff, it was definitely a much-needed improvement.

           Despite all this, Korra was growing more and more convinced that she should’ve stayed home. Her stomach was in knots and she was so tired. All she could think about was going back to bed. After greeting Zhu Li, she and Asami followed her up to her office, where Korra immediately sat down on one of the empty couches. Thankfully, since this meeting was mostly regarding the new housing project, she wouldn’t have to be too involved.

           Still, it felt like an eternity before things wrapped up. As Asami rolled up the last of her blueprints and thanked Zhu Li for her help, Korra stood up, all too eager to get back to Air Temple Island. Before she could take a step or even utter a word, she found herself clouded by an overwhelming dizziness. The next thing she knew, the world went black and she could hear Asami cry out her name. The blackness lasted only a second, but it was long enough for her to come to barely standing, supported only by her girlfriend’s arms.

           “I’ll fetch a medic!” Zhu Li offered, urgently.

           Still mostly relying on Asami for support, Korra tried to wave her off. “No, no, it’s fine,” she said, her words slightly slurred, “I stood up too fast. I’m fine.”

  ��        “You’re not fine!” Asami insisted, “You’ve been sick since last night, and you just fainted! You need to get checked out!”

           Korra let out a quiet sigh. She knew she couldn’t let Asami worry. “Fine.”

           As Zhu Li left to fetch a medic, Asami helped Korra back onto the couch. The Avatar rested her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder, quietly hoping the visit with the medic would be quick. Her bed was calling out to her.

           Thankfully, it was only a few minutes before the lone medic entered the room. She smiled at the women before greeting them, and soon started bending water from her pouch, using the now glowing liquid to examine Korra.

           “Well, you’re a little dehydrated. I recommend resting for the rest of the day, and drinking plenty of fluids,” she said as she returned the water to her pouch, “Other than that, there’s nothing to fret over. You and the baby are both fine.”

           Korra’s eyes snapped open, and she quickly sat up straight. Had she heard right? She could feel Asami’s posture stiffen as well, and she didn’t need to look at her to know she was staring at her with a mix of confusion and heartbreak.

           “Me and the what now?” she blurted out.

           The medic’s expression dropped.

           “Oh, you didn’t… Forgive me Avatar Korra, I thought you knew. You’re somewhere between ten and twelve weeks along.”

           Hearing this, Asami instantly relaxed. However far along Korra was, it was longer than they’ve been together.

           Korra, on the other hand, was practically shaking. Her heart felt like it was about to pound out of her chest. Whatever tiredness she’d felt was long forgotten, replaced with disbelief and the buzzing of a million questions racing through her head.

           “How… No. No, that’s impossible!” she insisted, “I can’t have kids! The poison made me infertile!”

           “I assure you, it’s possible. You’re definitely pregnant.” Seeing Korra’s expression unchanged, the medic thought of something. “You’re a healer, correct? You can check for yourself.”

           For a moment, Korra found herself unable to move. Eventually, she stood up and bent some water out of the medic’s pouch. Bending it around her pelvic area, she concentrated, and soon she found it. It was tiny, barely even the size of a fig, but it was there. Her baby…

           Hands shaking, Korra bent the water back into the pouch, just barely managing to not let it splash onto the floor. Without saying a word, she sat back down next to Asami, her hands clasped over her nose and mouth. She couldn’t believe it. She really was pregnant.

           The next half hour was a blur. She remembered getting in the car, and from there getting on a ferry to Air Temple Island, but the details were lost to her. She couldn’t even remember if Asami spoke to her or not.

           Before she could even really register it, Korra found herself sitting at the small table in the kitchen, while Asami made some tea. Eventually, she decided she couldn’t put it off forever, and looked over at Asami.

           “Are you mad?” she asked, unsure if she was prepared for the answer.

           Asami looked to her, surprised. “What? No, of course I’m not mad. It happened before we started dating, so there’s nothing to be mad about.”

           Korra let out sigh, instantly relieved. Taking the kettle off the stove, Asami began to pour two cups of tea.

           “Though… I am confused,” the non-bender admitted, “You’re three months pregnant and you had no idea?”

           Korra shook her head. “I’ve never been the most… regular person, but since the poisoning, my periods have been… really out of whack,” she explained, “The whole six months I was traveling alone, I didn’t get my period once.”

           Asami stared at her for a moment. “You, uh… you should probably see a doctor about that. I know certain contraceptives can help regulate your cycle.”

           “Thanks, I’ll get right on that as soon as this baby pops out,” Korra said with a hint of sarcasm.

           Taking that as her cue to be done with the subject, Asami walked over with the cups of tea. She handed one to Korra, then sat down across from her with her own cup.

           “So… can I ask who the father is?”

           Korra’s body stiffened and her cheeks turned red. She found herself unable to look Asami in the eye.

           “Don’t be mad, ok?”

           “I promise I won’t be. Just tell me.”

           Korra hesitated for a moment. “It’s… it’s Mako.”

           Before she could stop herself, a fairly loud chuckle escaped Asami’s lips. Realizing that wasn’t at all an appropriate reaction, she clasped her hand over her mouth.

           “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.”

           Relaxing a bit, Korra gave her a small smile. “Eh, it’s a little funny.”

           Asami relaxed too and smiled back at her. “So… is it ok if I ask… when did it…?”

           “The night I confronted Zaheer,” Korra admitted, “Mako offered to get us dinner, we went back to his place, and things just kinda… happened.”

           Asami nodded. She thought back to a certain night three years ago, thinking how she would’ve likely done the same if he hadn’t gotten arrested just moments after she arrived at his apartment.

           “I probably should’ve asked this first, but… how do you feel about this? Are you…” she trailed off.

           Korra glanced down at her still steaming cup of tea, thinking long and hard about the question. “I feel… shocked… scared… but, also weirdly happy.” Having said it, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “It would’ve been nice to have some time to plan for this, but I’m so, so happy. I wanna keep it. I wanna have this baby!” She glanced back up at Asami, and her smile instantly faded.

           “I know this changes things for us. If you don’t wanna stick around, I understand. You didn’t sign up for a baby.”

           Asami didn’t respond right away. After a moment, she stood up and went to her girlfriend’s side, taking hold of her hands.

           “I’m not going anywhere,” she assured her, “I love you, Korra. You and everything that comes with you.” She paused and placed her hand on Korra’s belly. “We’ll raise this baby together.”

           Korra could barely hold back her tears of joy. She placed her hand over Asami’s before standing up as well. The two of them embraced, holding each other close.

           “You really are the best,” Korra said.

           They continued to hug for a while, but after a moment, Korra suddenly stiffened.

           “Oh boy. I’m gonna have to tell Mako.”

           They pulled away from the hug, but Asami still held Korra’s hands.

           “You want me to be there when you tell him?”

           “Yes, please.”

--

           The café was abuzz with the morning rush. The bells on the door chimed as Mako came in, looking around. He had no idea why Korra and Asami wanted to talk to him alone, but the tone of Korra’s voice on the phone the night before had him worried.

           Finally, he spotted them, already seated at a table near the back. The café was already crowded enough that no one would notice them, but the location of the table would give them a little extra privacy. Making his way over, he sat down across from them.

           “Hey Mako,” Korra greeted with a nervous smile.

           “Hey,” Mako said to the both of them, “You finally gonna tell me what’s up?”

           Korra tapped her fingers against the table, constantly glancing towards Asami, but struggling to meet Mako in the eye. She didn’t think she’d be this nervous.

           “Ok, um… I’m pregnant,” she admitted, figuring it best to just blurt it out, “It’s your baby. I’m keeping it, and Asami and I are gonna raise it. You’re free to be as involved as you wanna be, I just thought you should know.”

           Mako blinked. There seemed to be a delay between Korra saying the words and his mind understanding it. Once he finally did, his face went pale. Breaking out in a cold sweat, he found himself unable to speak.

           “You alright there, Mako?” Korra asked, genuinely concerned.

           The firebender stayed silent. His eyes were as wide as the café’s teacups.

           “I… I gotta…” he stuttered, before awkwardly standing and stumbling out of the café in a half-dazed state. Korra and Asami looked at each other, sharing looks of non-amusement.

           “Well, that was about what I expected,” Korra said.

--

           The stairs creaked as Bolin made his way up to the apartment, a slight pep in his step. He couldn’t wait to tell Mako about his first day at his new job. He was already certain his found his new calling.

           Unlocking the door, he stepped inside and flipped on the light switch. As the lights turned on, Bolin jumped as he spotted a shell-shocked looking man sitting on the couch, slouched forward with both hands clasped together in front of his face. Realizing it was only Mako, Bolin released his fighting stance and raised an eyebrow at his brother.

           “Uh… you good over there?” he asked.

           Mako didn’t answer right away, his eyes still staring straight ahead.

           “I’m going to be a father,” he blurted out.

           “Whoa!” Bolin excitedly exclaimed. He shut the door behind him and sat down next to Mako, wrapping an arm around him. “Congratulations, bro! That’s awesome! Who’s the lucky lady?”

           Again, Mako hesitated.

           “Korra,” he sheepishly admitted.

           Bolin’s expression dropped and he raised an eyebrow.

           “Korra? But… but she’s dating Asami?”

           “It… happened before that,” Mako explained, unclasping his hands and running his fingers through his hair, “She… said she and Asami are gonna raise it… and I can be as involved as I want.”

           Bolin perked up again. “So, are you gonna be involved?”

           Mako looked at him for the first time since he got home. “I… haven’t thought about it yet,” he admitted, “Should I even be? After everything that happened between me, and Korra and Asami… would that make things too awkward?”

           Bolin frowned. “But what about the baby? Don’t you think it’ll wanna know its dad at some point?”

           Mako sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s true…”

           “Just forget about Korra and Asami for a minute. You’re gonna be a dad! There’s gonna be a baby! That’s exciting! You could have a strapping little boy or a cute little girl! Just imagine that!”

           Mako thought for a moment. Then another. Eventually, he relaxed a bit and even cracked a slight smile.

           “A strapping little boy or a cute little girl,” he thought out loud, “Yeah… Yeah, I guess that is exciting.”

           As his nerves faded and his mind began to clear, a thought occurred to him. Suddenly, he shot up from the couch, a wave of panic crashing over him.

           “Crap, I left them at the café!”

--

           “How’s the letter coming along?” Asami asked, walking over to Korra, and putting a hand on her shoulder.

           “I keep having to start over,” Korra admitted, “I know my parents will be happy, but I wanna find the right way to tell them.”

           Before Asami could respond, the phone rang. Taking her hand off Korra’s shoulder, she walked the few steps towards the phone and answered it.

           “Avatar Korra’s room, Asami speaking.” She listened for a moment before handing the phone out to Korra. “It’s Mako.”

           Putting her pen down, Korra got up and took the phone from Asami.

           “Hey Mako. You doing better?”

           “Yeah. I… I’m so sorry about earlier. I don’t know what I was thinking just leaving you there. I’m an idiot.”

           “Yeah, but don’t worry about it,” Korra assured him, “We know you pretty well. We knew you’d come around.” She paused for a moment. “So… have you thought about it at all, or do you need more time?”

           “I’ve thought about it. Of course I wanna be involved! I know we have a… complicated history, but I wanna know my kid.”

           Korra smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” She paused again. “So… Asami found me a doctor. I have an appointment tomorrow to check to make sure everything’s going ok. If you want, you could come with us.”

           “Yes, of course!”

           “Great. I’ll hand you back to Asami. She knows where the place is.”

--

           The waiting room was uncomfortably quiet. Sitting in the seat between Mako and Asami, Korra alternated between twiddling her thumbs and mindlessly flipping through magazines. Every once in a while, she wondered if the press would already be speculating by the time she got out of there; it wasn’t every day she openly walked into an obstetrician’s office with her girlfriend and ex-boyfriend. The thought was nerve wracking, but it was somehow easier to think about than the awkward silence that was currently happening between the three of them.

           Finally, Korra’s name was called. She stood up, Mako and Asami following behind her, and they were shown to a room. Once the nurse left, they were met with more waiting, only it somehow seemed more awkward. At least in the waiting room there were other patients and magazines to be distracted by. Now with just the three of them, the silence was so much worse.

           Thankfully, they weren’t left in that silence for long. Less than ten minutes after being shown to the room, the doctor walked in, greeting all three of them.

           “Hi, I’m Dr. Yuzuki,” she said, grinning politely. She then walked over to Korra, extending her arm towards her. Korra did her best to smile back, and shook her hand.

           “So, your chart says you’re between ten and twelve weeks. Is that correct?”

           “That’s what I was told,” Korra said.

           “Great. Since you’re a new patient, we just need to check some basic things, and then we can try to pinpoint your exact due date.”

           For the next fifteen minutes, Mako and Asami stayed silent while Dr. Yuzuki took Korra’s vitals. While doing do, she asked her the standard questions of when her last period was, what her diet and exercise routine was like, if she’d experienced and cramping or spotting, etc.

           “Now what I’m going to have you do is lie on your back and lift your shirt,” the doctor said as she wrote the last bit of the basic questionnaire on Korra’s chart. She then gestured towards Mako and Asami. “You’ll wanna come here. This is the exciting part.”

           As Asami and Mako stood up from their chairs, Korra did as she was told, lying down on the table, and exposing her belly. Meanwhile, Dr. Yuzuki took out a probe-like scanning device, attached to a small monitor and speaker.

           “This is called a fetal doppler,” she explained, “It will allow us to hear the baby’s heartbeat.”

           Korra looked towards Mako and Asami, all three of them having a mix of nervousness and excitement. Once the device was set up, the doctor spread a goo-like gel on Korra’s lower abdomen and started moving the probe in small circles below her navel.

           “It can take a couple minutes to locate the baby’s exact position. Don’t be worried if we can’t find the heartbeat right away.”

           The three twenty-somethings listened intensely to the sounds given off by the fetal doppler. Despite the doctor’s assurance, Korra grew anxious as the minutes ticked by with only soft, mechanical whirring sounds. Sensing her anxiety – and maybe feeling some of her own – Asami reached out and held Korra’s hand.

           Suddenly, the soft whirring was replaced with a strong, fast-paced thumping sound. Korra’s eyes widened as she began to register what she was hearing.

           “That’s the heartbeat,” the doctor confirmed.

           The parents-to-be listened closely, mesmerized by the sound. Asami gave Korra’s hand a gentle squeeze, just beaming at her. Korra herself nearly teared up. She never thought she’d have a child of her own, let alone hear its heartbeat. Mako stood beside them in awe, trying to memorize the pattern of the fast-paced thumps. It was in that moment that it seemed to click for all three of them. This was real. This was happening.

           And it was wonderful.

[thirsty-x1]

Thriller Night | Han Seungwoo

Request:

hi can i request a fluff one shot where you got scared while watching horror movie with seungwoo? tq!

↬ Pairing: Seungwoo x gn!reader

↬ Genre: Fluff

↬ Warnings: Seungwoo. That’s it, that’s the warning.

↬ Word Count: 1.4k

You wanted to show Seungwoo that you were not a scaredy-cat and you were determined to it, even going as far as researching, which involved simply asking around what was the scariest movie your friends had watched and such.

“Babe, you don’t need to do this, you are not easily scared, I’m sorry to have said that.” Your boyfriend is spread on the sofa, his look tired as you are looking for the movie.

“That sounded so fake, you don’t mean it, besides I really am not!” You pressed play, quickly going to sit next to him.

“Why are we even watching the third part instead of the first one? And the american version? Those aren’t scary–”

“Because Seungyoun said that this one is better, has more scary scenes and you don’t really need much story to understand, so shut up and watch.”

The first three minutes you managed everything amazingly. But as soon as the sound of the low “scream” started, your body stilled, and the brutal murdering left you completely frozen in the spot, whilst Seungwoo laughed loudly.

“That was terrible! How can this be sca–” He shut up as soon as he noticed your posture.

He got closer, you not even realizing as your eyes were fixed on, and placed his arm around your shoulders causing you jump out.

“What are you doing?! That wasn’t funny at all!” You could see him trying to hold back his laughter, but the corners of his lips went up constantly.

“I just wanted to cuddle, it’s kinda scary.” Liar. He didn’t even flinch once, but considering how you could feel goosebumps all over your body, it might not be that much of a bad idea.

You sat next to him, letting him hug you although you tried to keep your head up, as if by doing that you could gain some composure. Having a relationship a musician had its perks, but the full high quality surround sound system was not one of them, at least not in these situations when a whole movie is based in making you shit your pants with noises so when the hoarse rattle filled the room, you couldn’t help but to grip Seungwoo’s sleeve and slouching in a dissimulated way into his arms, your hands coming up to cover your face partially as the music increased, preparing for the jumpscare, but it turned out it was a fake move so you relaxed and got away from him only to let out a high-pitched scream when the real one came up.

“Fuck movie directors! What the fuck was that!” You shout in anger to the screen while being curled up against your boyfriend, his vibrating chest against the side of your face as he caressed your hair. “It shouldn’t be legal!”

“We can just change the movie.”

“N-No, I can finish it. I’m not scared, just frustrated at the incompetence of the editing–”

“It’s intentional.”

“Shut up.”

Ten minutes passed and no more scary parts came out, besides the movie was almost about to end so you eased in, laughing at yourself and your reactions. It wasn’t that scary, really, you could easily see some flaws here and there that made the film lose the realistic scary effect. Or so you thought until it finished with another fucking jumpscare and you turned off the TV, silence taking over as you saw your terrified face on the now black screen and Seungwoo looking to the side to not make eye contact with you.

“Babe–”

“I lost. Yeah, whatever, it doesn’t matter.” You let out a small humph and laid back, embarrassment running through your veins as you remember how much you insisted that you weren’t a coward to Seungwoo but now you felt so pathetic for showing him that side of you.

“You did so well, though.” You thought he would laugh again or something, but he was... praising you? “You watched the whole movie and endured the scary moments despite shaking as if you were jelly.”

“That was rude–” He stood and wrapped his arms around you as he kissed your forehead.

“My brave baby.”

You could sense the blood rushing to your cheeks, your head dropping on his chest as your heart exploded in thousand of small butterflies. How dare he be so cute and act all sweet towards you? His scent was comforting... Maybe this is how it felt to have a safe spot: right now, you felt like nothing could ever hurt you, nothing could make you flinch because you were sure he would protect you. His phone started ringing but he ignored it.

“I’m all good now, you should pick up.” You raised your face and gave him a soft smile. You went and sat in the sofa, barely listening to his conversation and focusing on his expressions, the way his voice sounded, his hands moving softly, his weight changing constantly from one leg to another until he hung up and came to you.

“They are asking me to go back.” Oh. “Are you fine with being alone?”

“I- Uh, yeah, yeah, I can manage to do that.” What were you going to say? ‘Stay with me, I’m fucking terrified a blood covered lady will come down the stairs!’?

“Remember, they are just actors. The make up was terrible, the fake blood too, it’s a curse so you would need to be in that place and you are not there, you are in this really nice apartment that smells wonderfully thanks to my candles, so everything will be alright, yes?” You nodded and he could see the evident lie. “I’m so sorry, babe...”

“Hey, I will be alright! It’s just one night, right? I can just grab a baseball bat and hit them with it.” He chuckled at your mimicking of the scenario before walking to the door. You held his hand instinctively, but simply smiled when he looked at you with big eyes.

“Are you sure that you will be ok?”

“Yes! Now go to work, you snoopy boy.”

He giggled and pecked your lips before getting out, you waited until he disappeared at the end of the hallway before closing the door and running to your room, covering with the blankets. Although in one of the scenes of the other movies that Seungyoun had shown you, the bed wasn’t really a safe place... Actually, the whole bedroom wasn’t a safe place. You got up again and sat down in the sofa, knees against your chest and putting happy music, but it just made you afraid of not hearing if there was any creepy sound around you.

Fuck. Why did you even try to pretend you weren’t afraid? What a terrible idea. Now you were all paranoid, staring at every corner of the room and to the roof whilst also being careful because... What if you saw something? What would you do? Die.

You heard a knock and almost shit your pants. The ghost didn’t knock on the door... Did it? Oh fuck, what if it learnt some manners? You were terrified to look through the peephole, so you decided to grab one of Seungwoo’s microphones as a weapon and opened the door violently to find a very surprised... Seungwoo?

“What are you doing with that?”

“... Hit Kayako?” He started laughing uncontrollably.

“Were you really going to- to hit someone with that? Oh my...”

“S-Shut up! What are you doing here anyway?”

“I went, told them I couldn’t stay tonight and rushed to come here. Have you been like this for an hour?” A-An hour?

“Uh... Maybe?”

“Jeez, you are adorable. C’mon, it’s late, lets go sleep.” He ruffled your hair, passing past you, closing the door and holding your hand as he guided you to the bedroom. You were about to say something but it felt right to just accept.

Now you were in bed, Seungwoo his strong body acting as an armor against any kind of evil out there and also against oxygen, your face being fully buried in his chest, its gentle movement and the sound of his breathing functioning as a calming draught.

“Can you put some music?” Your muffled request made him smile, his hands ceasing to caress your hair only to grab his phone.

“Oh, found the perfect one.”

You felt like punching him as Thriller by Michael Jackson started playing.

Ok but he’s a Capricorn (Sun and Mercury + Jupiter and Thalia in Sagittarius) and I’m sure he would pull off some terrible joke like that one, I hate him.

~Nani

unedited

[venomous--fics]

Security.

A/n: just some dumb emotional blurb about what it’s like being a spider-person. Had this idea after writing tag, but wasn’t sure how tag was going to do, so i waited and kept this in my notes. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy it! 

Warnnings: It’s a bit angsty? mentions of death, negative emotions, just kinda sad for a while. A real somber tone, if you would.

It was your typical night of patrolling. You were lounging on the roof of a building, unphased by the lack of crime happening. You were starting to think that criminals were actually scared of you and Peter. Maybe they were, and they were right for feeling that way. 

You were admiring all the glowing lights of the city, paying no mind to the various noises of the night. You and Peter hadn’t spoken a lot since you’d gotten out here, but again, that was typical. Peter liked to focus, and you never felt the need to bother him. Normally, he’d speak first. ….Normally, it’d be some pop culture joke. But not tonight.

You heard a sniffle, and that’s what snapped you out of your daydream. It wasn’t cold enough to cause your nose to run, and besides, Tony had installed those heaters into the suits. So even if you were chilly, the suit would recognize that and heat you back up. Was Peter….Crying?

“Pete?” you asked quietly.

“Oh!” he cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, “Yeah? See something?”

“Are you okay?”

He hesitated, “I’m…Alright.”

You moved closer to him, “You’re a bad liar, Peter.”

Peter slouched once more and made sure he was out of anyone’s view before he took off his mask. He held it so gingerly in his hands, looking down at it. You couldn’t read his face, there were too many emotions. You took off your mask as well, setting it in your lap, “If you wanna talk…I’m here.”

Peter didn’t break eye contact with the mask, “I’ve never told anyone who wasn’t my aunt May, but..Sometimes..”

You tilted your head a little after hearing his voice crack on the last word. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

That was a lot …Heavier than you were anticipating, but then again, you often thought that yourself. You waited a moment and let out a breath, “I… I don’t know, Pete. I’m not sure. I was always told that things happen for a reason.”

Peter thought about that last bit. It was true. Everything that happens, always has a reason. He became Spider-man to protect people.. But on the other side of the coin, it costed him a lot more than what he was willing to ever sacrifice. It costed him everything, if he was being truly honest.

It took one of the people who truly meant everything to him away. He finds himself thinking about what happened more often than he’d admit. He remembers that night. He remembers the crowd of people. He remembers pushing through them and immediately regretting that decision.

He remembers every detail about Uncle Ben that night. He could even tell you the brand of shirt he was wearing. That wasn’t important to any ordinary person, but to Peter, it was everything.

A carjacker, they said. A shooter, one corrected. Peter didn’t care which one it was. He can only remember holding Ben’s hand until Ben couldn’t anymore. He could tell you how awful it was to watch the life fade from Ben’s eyes as his breathing stopped. He remembers the onlookers gasping or some crying, and he remembers the sobs that came out of himself. He wanted it to be him. It was his fault. He remembers hearing where the murderer was heading, and he remembers going after him.

He could tell you the hatred he felt in that moment. He could tell you how he cornered the man, and accidentally killed him. He could tell you, moment for moment, what it felt like to watch the man as he tripped and fall out of the warehouse window. The last thing he will ever remember about that man was the way he had reached out his hand and begged for help as he fell back, but all Peter did was watch.

He hadn’t meant to let the man die, but something inside of him let it happen. And he still doesn’t regret it. He knows Ben would’ve been upset, but Peter thought it was justice. And it was also the moment after looking out the broken window that he realized he needed to protect this city, and the world if he could. 

He needed to protect everyone so ensure that there would never be another Ben. He never wanted to relive that moment of going home. He never wanted to hear aunt May cry again. He never wanted to remember the look on her face, or the way she dropped the phone. He never, ever wanted to relive the moments of having to tell her what had happen. He wished he didn’t have to live through the aftermath of it all. He never wanted to remember the feeling of watching Ben being lowered into his final resting place. It was something he’d seen too much of.

It brought back the memories of his parents. He was so young, and couldn’t fully understand. All he remembers is that they went away for work one day and never came home. All he can recall is May helping him fix his child sized dress top as they prepared to head out for something. A funeral, May had told him. He had never been to one of those.

He remembers seeing so many sad people, but never asked why.

He remembers not going home to his bed that night, mostly because his things were already at May’s place. They stayed there for a long time. Until he grew out of them, if he remembers correctly. 

He never went home.

So young and fragile, May had sheltered him from the pain, and did her best to ease him into this new life with her and Ben. It was a good life. There was plenty of books to read, meals to eat, places to sleep. He still didn’t understand. Then one day he did. 

There was a picture of his parents that was always by his bedside, on the wooden night table his parents had bought for him years ago. He remembers his small hands carrying the picture to May. He asked why they didn’t want to take him home.

That was the day he learned what misery was. It all made sense to him. That was the day that little Peter Parker had made a promise to himself.

There would be no more misery in this world so long as he was around. It was this series of moments that made him Spider-man. He became a hero built on pain, loss, and unbelievable grief. And he’s used it for good. Or so he thought. Most days he wasn’t too sure of himself.

“Peter?”

He looked over at you with a tear running down his face, he quickly looked back down at the mask. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just began replaying a mantra in his head.

“My uncle,” Peter said almost as if he wasn’t sure where to begin or end, “He always told me that great power came with great responsibility.”

You lifted a hand to gently put on Peter’s back, but stopped midway when his words caught you off guard.

“What if I ….Don’t want the power.. Or the responsibility…Anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I,” he sighed, sounding selfish, “I have these powers and I chose to be Spider-man, but what if I choose to be something else instead.”

You really wanted to make a joke to lighten the mood, but you knew better. You set your hand back on the cool cement of the roof and looked away, “I don’t think you get that choice anymore. I don’t think any of us do.”

“Being Spider-man costed me everything….It costed me my uncle, it….I..”

You rubbed your arm, feeling a stitched up wound reopen as your heard your own voice cracked, “It costed me my mom.”

It was in that moment that Peter realized something. Something very important that he had forgotten over the last few weeks. Spider-man was not a symbol of loss, but a symbol of hope and strength.

“I didn’t mean to cut you off,” you didn’t bother to look at him, “I just thought maybe…You’d..Know you were alone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for? You didn’t ask to lose someone important to you..” You wiped your eyes and finally turned back to look at him, “I just want you to know that I get it, Peter.”

Peter looked you over for a moment or two. It was so bizarre and jarring to see you cry. He had only see you cry once, but that’s because you found his joke so funny that you had actually started crying. But now you were crying out of pain, and he wasn’t sure how to feel. Maybe this was a good thing.

“I never like to get personal because, well,” You sighed, wiping your face again before looking down at all the city lights again, “It was just so sudden..She was always sick, but, we thought she was getting better.”

Much like Peter, you remember every tiny detail about that day too. You remember how her hair was styled, you remember how she had been so happy and full of joy just a few hours before. It was a curse having to remember it all.

It was a curse remember how the nurses had to drag you out of the room screaming. It was a curse knowing that there was nothing you could do. Despite having powers, you were utterly powerless. 

It was a curse remembering what her grave looked like. It was adorn with all her favorite flowers that you had swung around the city gathering. You never wanted to tell a soul how god awful it all felt.

You never wanted to get close to another living thing out of fear that this would happen again. But Peter kinda messed that up. You had already gotten close to him. You didn’t mean to, it just happened.

You remember how approving your mother was of him. She was even fond of him, constantly telling you that you should ‘make a move.’ You always got embarrassed and told her it wasn’t like that, but she could always see right through you. 

She always knew what you wanted, even when you thought you didn’t. She knew you. She loved you.

The morning after everything, you had woken up to an empty home. In fact, it wasn’t home at all. She wasn’t singing anymore. Her bed was cold. Dishes from the days prior were still in the sink. You didn’t want to be there.

It didn’t feel right. 

It didn’t feel like home anymore.

You had found yourself staying at Peter’s place most nights. May never minded, she never really did. You took the top bunk of Peter’s bed. The nights were always silent and heavy. Both of you knew something was bothering the other, but neither of you wanted to talk first. 

Most of the nights you laid so you could look out the window. You looked up at the sky and wondered which star was your mother. Was she there at all? Maybe this was all a bad dream and she was waiting for you at home. It was thoughts like that that really made it sink in. She just wasn’t there anymore.

You knew better than to let anyone see you cry, so you kept it all in. You had to pick up the pieces and try to make the most out of what was left. It didn’t seem fair, and it wasn’t, but life wasn’t fair. It would never be fair.

“I just..I don’t know..” You looked at your hands, “I still can’t wrap my head around it. Not to mention that I have no idea where I’m going to be moving to-”

“Moving?”

You remembered that you weren’t going to tell Peter that last bit because you didn’t want to hurt him. It was a big legal mess. Now that your sole guardian was gone, you were currently staying with your grandparents, but they were getting too old to do much, so they thought it’d be best to move you out of state to live with your aunt. That was your only option. You had no other family, and no other family in New York, for that matter.

“My grandparents can’t take care of me, and my aunt is a last resort.”

“What about your dad?”

Another sour note has been struck, but you kept a brave face. You honestly didn’t know what to say exactly. Your mom was always so secretive about who he was. You thought for the longest time it was out of shame, but you realized, it was just because she had moved on. She made a good life for you, so she didn’t think i twas really necessary to stress you out with the ‘I don’t know’’s and the 'I’m not sure’’s.

“I don’t know him,” you smiled a little at the thought that ran through your head, “All I remember is my mom describing him as some suave, rich party boy. Always told me he was some sort of famous celebrity. Never bothered to try to find him, mainly because I’m a nobody, you know?”

Peter looked out at the lights as well. It was so quiet now. You were leaving? Peter didn’t want to admit it, like most things, but you were like his rock. You were the only person who truly understood because you were exactly like him. Sure, Ned knew, but Ned would never know how it truly feels.

For a second, Peter thought that maybe if you’d found your dad, you could stay. But there was a long list of famous party men in New York, and he didn’t have time to just go down the list. And of course, Peter being who he is, and knowing the people he does, the first party goer that came to mind was Mr. Stark, but Tony never seemed like the type of guy to just do something like that.

Then again, he wasn’t always responsible. Okay, he is never responsible. He was the type of man who loved danger almost as much as he loved his music. Or Pepper, but he’d never tell anyone that. Why would he? 

“Of course you know,” you said after the long silence, “You’re the biggest nobody I know, Peter.”

“How comforting. Thank you.”

You chuckled, “Kidding. Kidding.”

The mood in Peter’s head shifted completely. He was no longer weighed down by this darkness. Sure, he still felt a little bit like hot garbage, but hey, you were here. He liked that. He liked you. He liked your laugh, the design of your suit, the way you said his name. He liked most things that other people would hate. He loved how ridiculous your handwriting was. He loved how sometimes you could outsmart him, or even when you constantly tapped your writing utensil on things. If you left, who would he have? May, of course. Tony, obviously. Ned, most of the time. Who would he sit with on the rooftops at midnight when 95% of the city was sleeping? Who would occasionally bring snacks or extra homework supplies when they knew he needed them? Nobody.

“So,” Peter swallowed hard, “When, uh, when do you, uhm…Leave.”

“Not sure.” you shrug, trying not to seem bothered by it, “If only I knew who my dad was, and by some miracle he was in New York, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“I’ll help you.” he blurted out.

“What?”

“Find your dad. I’ll help you.”

“Why the sudden interest?”

“You can’t leave,” he sighed, “You just can’t.”

“I don’t have a choice-”

“You always have a choice. Just like you chose to be Sp-”

“I think the law is just a little different from being a vigilante. I could be wrong, but-”

You were caught off guard by Peter pulling you into a hug. This was new, he’s never done this before. Normally you two awkwardly fist bumped or high-fived. Peter was too shy and too awkward for anything else. 

“Oh, uh, okay.”

You slowly wrapped your arms around peter and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt safe and secure, and you wondered if he felt the same. He had to. Either way, you didn’t want it to end.

You wanted to stay here and just let Peter know that nothing will ever hurt him again. You wanted to tell him how you felt. You just wanted to stay with him. He made you feel strong when you didn’t even want to say the word weak. You didn’t want to seem cliche and say you needed him, but you did. Peter was home to you.

He was there for you after your mom died, even though tyou hadn’t told him why you were upset, he just assumed you were stressed about school. You two obviously were there for each other after the freak accidents that turned you into these weird scientific miracles or abominations, depending on who you ask.

“Just don’t leave. Okay?”

“I’ll try not to.”

Peter clung to you a little tighter, as if you were really his rock and he was about to be swept away and into the unforgiving sea. There’s so much he still wanted to tell you if he got the chance. He wanted to tell you how he felt, how wonderful he thought you were. He wanted to tell you that you were right. Things do happen for a reason.

Everything that happened with his parents. Everything that’s happened since moving in with May and Ben. Everything that happened to Ben. As bittersweet as it was to say, it was all meant to happen. Becoming Spider-man? Also meant to happen. Meeting you, being with you, falling in love with you? He wouldn’t trade it for anything. He understands that now. 

“It’s getting late.” you said quietly.

Peter sighed a little, still holding you in his warm embrace. He smiled a little, enjoying the moment, and he promised himself to enjoy any moment like this from now on. If you did have to leave, even after everything, there was one thing Peter would not hesitate to tell you. You were the best thing that has ever happened to him.

“Just a little longer.”

[k-popmakesmyday]

Hi! Can i request a Chenle fic where the reader is insecure so she starts starving herself then one day Chenle catches her staring at herself in the mirror with only a bra and underwear on and he sees that she's so skinny(like her hip bones are very clearly visible) and he stars crying and he makes sure that she eats three meals per day? Like something inspired by 'Scars to your beautiful' by Alessia Cara. If you can do that, i'd be really happy. Thank you!

I’m awfully sorry that this took so long, my love, I had a massive motivation issue when you requested this so I apologise for that. But I hope this makes for it! -Em💜

Want to request something for NCT/WayV or another group? Click here!

A/n: I know this is a sensitive topic, and I am in no way a professional on how to deal with this but I have dealt with something similar myself, so I tried to use my own experiences to write this. But I really hope you’re okay, angel, and if you’re struggling my asks are always open and feel free to message me, that goes for everyone💜

A/n 2: Happy birthday to our precious Chenle! 💚

Warning: severe mentions of body negativity/eating disorders

[2:15 pm] You sighed as you saw the seemingly perfect bodies of the actors from the drama you were watching. All their clothes hugged their body in all the right places, they made anything look good. They were all perfectly skinny and had gorgeous features, all of which you believed you did not.

Looking at yourself right now, you were slouched on couch surrounded in blankets and snacks full of fats and sugar that were definitely not good for you. You got up from the couch in silence, and nervously wandered to your bedroom to look at yourself in the large, white full-length mirror.

You suddenly felt extremely insecure when you noticed how the shape of your body didn’t match the actors on tv at all. Your stomach stuck out horrendously and your thighs touched, the skin jiggling as your inspected them with a frown on your face.

You watched your eyes become glossy as the first few tears began to fall. You crumpled into a ball in front of the mirror, clutching your knees close to your chest to make yourself as small as possible. You stared at your distraught face in the glass, you didn’t look like the girl from the drama when she cried. When she cried, her eyelashes became more defined and her cheeks flushed to a light pink. You on the other hand had unmissable red eyes and your nose ran immensely. ‘You were disgusting compared to them’, you thought.

You allowed your body to heave and shake with loud sobs and snivels for fifteen minutes or so. Something had to change, it was just then an idea popped into your head. Eating was the perpetrator to your insecurity regarding your body so.. what if you just stopped eating?

It was then that you heard your phone buzz with a notification, you gasped as it brought you out of your head and back to reality. You shakily unlocked your phone and saw a text from your boyfriend, Chenle.

Lele🌸: open your door, I brought dinner! 💝

You shakily got up, hastily dried your eyes and hurriedly threw all your snacks away as you made your way to your front door and painted the biggest smile on your face that you could.

When you opened the door to reveal your effortlessly ecstatic boyfriend you mentally sighed, what was he doing with you? Despite your deprecating thought process, you hugged him back all the same while he spun you around the room

“Y/N~~!” He cheered as he flew you around in circles

“Chenle~” you weakly mimicked his actions but his happy, child-like demeanour made you laugh all the same

“Did you eat yet?” Chenle pulled away, beaming before placing a bag of food on the counter “I brought your favourite!”

“Oh, um.. thank you, Lele” you mumbled trying to think of an excuse “but I’m actually not too hungry”

The light-haired boy pouted before he shrugged, “okay, more for me then~” he shot you a cheeky grin before he dug into the food, but the sight of it made you feel incredibly sick.

You uncomfortably slid into the seat next to Chenle’s while he cheerfully told you about his day, it was that moment that you realised that you were glad that Chenle could make conversation with a wall.

A week had gone by and you had managed to eat three whole meals, the rest you skipped or picked at. No one had really mentioned it to you or asked about your new unusual tendencies, other than Chenle and the dreamies: to whom you claimed you weren’t feeling well or simply weren’t hungry.

The effects has started to kick in though, you were a lot more irratable, you were constantly sleepy and your stomach growled like there was no tomorrow. Despite this you tried your best to plaster a joyous expression onto your features and move on with your day.

The only relief you felt was after a long, exhausting day when you would come home and inhale sharply before stepping on the scale, the numbers were dropping dangerously. You, on the other hand, were delighted, the risk to your health not occurring to you.

Two weeks later you were over at the dreamies dorm with your boyfriend and the other members whom you considered family. When you entered they all greeted you with their routine hugs for everytime they saw you. But they squeezed your, now fragile, form so much that it hurt to breath. Increasingly when Chenle picked you up and spun you around like he always did, the whole room began to fade in and out as you felt alarmingly nauseous.

They all settled down to dinner and began chattering and laughing away like usual, unaware to you strategically moving your food around your plate so it looked like you had eaten more than you actually had.

Your eyes glided along the six boys sitting at the table, munching away happily while sharing anecdotes and recalling funny stories from practice, like the time Jisung shoved Jeno out of the way to be centre for the last chorus of ‘BOOM’, but ended up toppling back into poor, unknowing Renjun instead.

You couldn’t help but giggle at their shenanigans, you’d clap along with them if you had the strength to life your arms. But you didn’t, couldn’t. You felt trapped in your own skin, you barely had the energy to get up everyday and all your free time was spent sleeping.

Your breathing quickened as you blurted out that you needed to be excused, not meeting the eyes of any of the boys, especially not Chenle.

“Are you okay, Y/n? You’ve been acting kind of off lately” Jaemin asked, his voice undeniably laced with concern despite his efforts to keep his demeanour calm.

“I-I’m fine, promise. I just have to go to the bathroom really quickly, excuse me”

You scurried off to the bathroom and sank against the door, out of breath from using so much energy, rapid-paced breaths didn’t calm down, not helping how weak you felt. 10 minutes passed before you used the little power you had left in you to heave yourself off of the cold, tiled floor and up to the bathroom sink.

You gripped your hands on the edge of the counter and stared at your reflection briefly before ripping your eyes away and exiting the room, unable to bear looking at your depleated expression.

You opened the door stealthily and slowly as you silently crept along the corridor and slipped into Chenle’s shared bedroom, careful not to alert any of the boys who were still cheerfully eating.

The full length mirror was the first item to catch your eye in the room, just like the one you had in your own apartment. You felt like you couldn’t escape yourself no matter how hard you tried to desperately run away, you would always end up back where you started: crying in front of a mirror.

You undressed yourself until you stood in just your underwear, studying the person before you. Choking on a sob you clasped a hand over your mouth, you didn’t even recognise your reflection, it had taken you so long to realise how out of control your obsession had become.

Chenle was worriedly tip-toeing along the corridor in search of you, turning to his room once he saw the empty bathroom, gasping when he opened the door and saw the heart-wrenching sight before him.

It was you.. yet it wasn’t you, he thought. You looked so.. different. Your face appeared grey and mundane as you lost all the colour and brightness in your features. Your adorable chubby cheeks that Chenle loved so dearly had been hollowed into sharp, intense lines and worst of all: it was plain to see the harsh outline of your ribcage on your skin.

“Y-y/n?” He muttered, his voice had a tinge of uncertainty but he also sounded hurt.

Turning to look at him you felt your heart shatter. Your usual cheerful, happy Chenle had been replaced with a frightened child. He looked at you in horror and confusion, like he didn’t recognise you anymore while tears subconsciously escaped down his cheeks.

“I-I’m so sorry” you uttered weakly

Chenle tried to speak, but he just didn’t know what to say to you. He knew this wasn’t a good reaction to have, but he was too shocked and upset to care.

“Why?” Was all he said to you, and you just shook your head and cried uncontrollably, crumbling to the ground.

Chenle was angry with you, he couldn’t deny that, however he couldn’t just watch you cry in a crumpled ball on his bedroom floor. So he rushed to your side, making sure to envelop you in a light embrace. He tried not to sob himself when he hugged you, there was almost nothing to hug, and it broke him.

He rocked you back and forth like a baby, shushing you and kissing your forehead. In the time you were crying Chenle tried to figure out what he would say to you, but he just couldn’t fathom how to even start the conversation, so you did it for him.

“I just didn’t feel good enough, Lele. When I looked at myself all I saw was imperfection compared to other people and I just wanted to fix myself. I wanted to be perfect so you could be proud to be with me. I’m so sorry for doing this to you, I’m a horrible person, Lele, and you didn’t deserve this. I completely understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore..”

“Y/n, no” Chenle shook his head vigorously “I love you for you, I couldn’t care less what you looked like unless it affected your health negatively, like it is now. I love every single thing you call ‘imperfections’. Is this why you haven’t been eating lately?”

“Y-yes but I want to get better, Lele, I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I-it hurts.”

“And you will, my love. I will be there every step of the way with you, I promise. It isn’t you who has to change, its the world. You’re not in the least bit horrible, y/n, you’re a star. You’re my star.”

There’s hope waiting for you in the dark,

You should know you’re beautiful just the way you are,

And you don’t have to change a thing, the world should change it’s heart,

No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars and we’re beautiful.

[angelic-holland]

Seeing The Thing 6

Summary: How close is too close? 

Word Count: 3.3k 

Warnings: none 

A/N: bold indicates text messages! Masterlist in bio! 

“Y/N? You ready?” You hear Harrison shout from the stairwell.

“Be there in a moment!” You shout back, dodging around him and jogging down the stairs. 

“Hey Haz, ready to eat your weight in Tonight Dough?” You ask, slinging your arm around his shoulder as you greet Harrison at the bottom of the stairs. 

“That might be a bit of an exaggeration,” he laughs. 

“Only a little though,” you say as he squeezes your side lightly.

“Where’s Tom?”

“Maybe he ran to the bathroom?” You say as the two of you wait by the door.

Tom’s footsteps come barreling down the stairs moments later, “hey,” he mumbles, eyes locked on Harrison’s arm resting across your waist, your head gently resting on his shoulder.

“Ice cream time?” Harrison asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Tom sighs, arms crossing over his chest. 

***

“I’m telling you, the scene will look crazy ridiculous if we have to strip off 9 layers,” Tom argues as you and Harrison snicker over your ice cream.

“Tom, there are children here, geez,” you joke looking around at the mass of families and other college students huddled around tables at Ben & Jerrys. 

“All I’m saying is, it won’t be funny it’ll be stupid.”

“No, no, no, this is like the funniest moment in the whole show, promise,” Harrison nods.

“Yeah, I mean it’s just comical, yes logically you’ll have layers on from being out in the cold, but not this many layers, so to take them all off and then finally the climax of the show, Dave shows Rhonda what’s next, the big hooray of the show. The one actually happy ending,” you ramble. 

“You talk a lot when you get excited about stuff,” Tom gets out between licks of his ice cream. 

“It’s good, I love hearing you talk about things that interest you,” Harrison says immediately after he feels your body tense next to him. His hand not holding his ice cream was resting lightly on your waist, a nice anchor to reality.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing, just an observation,” Tom mumbles, slouching in his seat. 

“So you’re really going to rehearse the scene again tomorrow?” Harrison asks, changing the subject.

“If you still want to?” Tom asks, eyes moving between yours and Harrison’s hand on your waist. 

“Whatever I need to do to get this scene looking like the rest.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Tom asks, elbows leaning on the table between you and him.

“I just mean, Harrison is a great director, I want my scene to be the same caliber as his.”

“So you’re saying you’re stuck with the shit new guy who doesn’t know how to act?”

“Did I say that?” You frown, it wasn’t Tom you were worried about. You were worried that you didn’t do a good enough job directing the scene, planning it and executing it as well as Harrison did with the rest of the scenes. You were afraid your insecurities in your abilities would bubble to the surface and you didn’t want Tom to poke fun at them. 

“It will be, I have literally no doubt in my mind,” Harrison says, smiling at you softly before sitting up more in his seat.

“Should we get going?” You ask, ready to cut the night short. It made you remember why you didn’t like Tom very much in the first place. Why you couldn’t hang out with him when you were with Harrison. Every time you said something he would follow it up with a question, constantly badgering you about literally anything. At first you thought it was harmless, he was just curious about you as a person. You soon realized he was just being annoying. He must’ve figured out that you hated getting asked questions you didn’t know the answer to, he saw how your top lip would quiver and your brow would sweat and tears would well up in your eyes because you didn’t know and you didn’t want to look like an idiot. 

“Seriously,” Tom starts but Harrison cuts him off with a look.

“You know what, could I stop by CVS before we go back to the dorms?” You ask as you all throw out your ice cream.

“Yeah I needa grab a few things too,” Harrison says, slinging his arm around your shoulder.

Tom huffs and drags his feet, reluctantly following the two of you out of the ice cream shop and down the road to CVS. 

You and Harrison part as you grab what you need to grab, you were here because you had an idea to improve Tom and Nikk’s chemistry for the scene but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were directly targeting the two of them. You filled your arms with your favorite chapstick, the kind Tom seemed to like just as much as you did. You grabbed those mini packs of tissues, mini hand sanitizer bottles, and you were about to grab a box of plastic sandwich bags when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You flinched, shaking it off and turning around.

“Can you not do that?” You ask, voice teetering on annoyance as your arms start to shake.

“Do what?” He asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Touch me.”

“Jesus prude much - oh wait.”

“You’re an asshole,” you fight back, voice rising in anger and anxiety. 

“Yeah, I am, fuck off.”

“Gladly,” you scoff, walking away.

Your legs shake as you walk to the register, Harrison is close behind with a bottle of shampoo.

“What’s all this? Care packages?” He raises an eyebrow as you set everything onto the counter.

“For the show, everyone keeps getting sick, so I figured this can help them.”

“What’s the chapstick for?” He asks with a laugh.

“Well you know how it is, everyone’s lips get chapped since it’s so cold, so this’ll help.”

“Strawberry? Isn’t that the one you use?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug as you pay for everything and grab your bag.

“What’s this for?” Tom asks, appearing behind you like a fucking phantom, you almost jump but don’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you again.

“None of your business,” you say, “it’s a surprise.”

“For me?”

“No,” you reply coldly as Harrison checks out and the three of you leave the store.

“Come on, won’t tell a soul, promise.”

“You’ll find out tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s way too long,” Tom complains as he drags his feet behind you and Harrison.

The rest of the walk is quiet, Tom stops at his floor and Harrison walks you up to your room.

“Do you need me to stay tonight? You look a little shaky after your confrontation with Tom.”

“What confrontation?” You laugh, trying to push that aside as you open your door.

“You and him bickering in the aisle next to me.”

“Oh that, I’m fine, it was nothing.”

“I can tell him to stop being an asshole if you-,”

“I’m fine, Haz, promise. If it was really bothering me I would’ve lost it in the store. And I didn’t, so there’s that.”

“I-,”

“I’m good, promise. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smile, it takes everything in you not to break down as he hugs you before saying goodnight.

You’re exhausted as you climb into bed after showering. You plug in your phone when you hear the bzzz.

Tom: we could always rehearse the scene now

Bzzz.

Tom: nightcap?

Bzzz.

Tom: make it worth your while, promise I know my lines

Bzzz.

Tom: ok

Bzzz.

Tom: still on for tomorrow ???

Bzzz.

Tom: I’m game if you’re game

Bzzz.

Tom: I’m sorry if I was mean. It was a joke.

You roll your eyes and respond before he blows up your phone anymore.

You: jokes are supposed to be funny

Tom: I guess I need a better set then

You: clearly

Tom: plz

You: please what

Tom: plz help me practice the scene tomorrow

Tom: plz

Tom: pretty plz with a cherry on top

Tom: make it a strawberry actually ;)

Tom: sorry

You: my dorm at 9am

Tom: see ya then

You put your phone down as you pull the covers over your body, eyes drooping as you let sleep overtake you.

***

A knock on your door wakes you from your sleep with a start and you almost jump out of bed. 

“What the- shit,” you groan as you realize you forgot to set your alarm.

You look down at your pajamas, sweatpants and a tank top and shake your head, slipping on a T-shirt before opening the door.

“Someone just woke up.”

“Shut up.”

“Well good morning to you too,” Tom smiles, leaning against the side of your door.

“Gimme five minutes, just stand here and don’t touch anything,” you say, letting Tom into your room as you grab your bathroom caddy. 

“Scout’s honor,” he grins, saluting you as you leave.

You stumble to the bathroom, still half asleep as you wash your face and brush your teeth. You put on your chapstick and instinctively licked your lips. You quickly comb through your hair before making your way back to your room looking vaguely presentable.

You almost scream when you see Tom lounging on your bed like he owns the place, casually flipping through his script when you walked in. You quickly shut and lock your door.

“Hi,” he says, swinging his legs off the bed, feet swinging through the air as you angrily put your bathroom caddy away.

“Told you to stay still and not touch anything,” you sigh as you grab your script from your desk.

“Not touching anything,” he says as he stands up, “not anymore.”

You roll your eyes and flip your script open to his scene.

“Let’s get started, and try to remember everything that we did yesterday.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Is it about the show?”

“No,” Tom says, eyebrow quirked and head tilted as you walked to where the entrance to the scene was. 

You contemplate being an asshole like he was last night but you remember Harrison and you remember that you’re supposed to be the bigger person here. 

“Fine, what is it?”

“Why’d you, why did you freak out when I touched you last night?”

“At CVS?”

“Yeah, then.”

“I just, I didn’t see it coming.”

“Yeah but you seemed so, I don’t even know, mad? Upset?”

“I don’t like being taken by surprise is all, wasn’t expecting you to touch me then so I didn’t want you to.”

“You seemed to be okay with it earlier yesterday,” he says, stepping from one foot to the other in front of you.

“That was for the show.”

“But I-,”

“Just, don’t put a hand on my shoulder when you’re behind me, or stuff like that unless I say you can.”

“What’re you so afraid of? It’s not like I’m gonna hurt you.”

“Just, things like that make me anxious, and if I get too anxious I have panic attacks. There, happy?”

“I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

“Doing an awfully horrible job at something you weren’t supposed to be doing.”

“I-,”

“Let’s just do the scene okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, eyes distant as you walk onto your ‘set’. 

The scene goes smoothly, he remembers each bit of advice you gave him previously and you can’t help but have a big goofy grin on your face when he seems to breath life into the character, moving around the ‘stage’ with a purpose. 

“What?” He asks, breaking character.

“What do you mean what?”

“I mean why’re you smiling like that?”

“Nothing you’re just doing a really good job.”

“Oh cool uh thanks then.”

You went right back into the scene, like clockwork.

When it came time for the kiss you decided to let Tom choose whether or not he still wanted to. In your head it could go one of two ways, you could do the kisses and he could improve them and hopefully orchestrate them the same way with Nikk, your heart would beat a little faster in your chest and you’d want to see how he kisses as Tom and not just as Dave. Or you could mark the kisses and not let this get any farther because it scared the shit out of you. 

“Do you really not see what it is?” Tom, Dave asks.

“No.”

“Well can I give you a hint?”

“Yeah.”

Tom leans in, hands at his sides as he gives you a quick kiss, you Rhonda pulls away just as fast.

“What was that? Why did you do that?” You say in character.

The scene continues. You pretend not to notice that his lips feel soft and nice against your own.

The scene moves on, he does a good job, dare you say great job on Dave’s characterization and you can’t help but be proud of it.

“Is it apples?”

He shakes his head, hand intertwining with your own.

“Cherries?”

He shakes his head again and turns his body to face yours, other hand cupping your cheek.

“Big open faced strawberry rhubarb pie?”

He shakes his head again and you blush as his thumb rubs your cheek, his head bowing down to press his lips against yours. Your hands are steady on his shoulder and waist, lips pulling away and head turning to continue the scene.

“Oh Dave! I see it! It’s-, I see it. It’s nice,” you say, his hand drops from your cheek, yours from his waist as you continue with your lines, “that’s really nice. It’s good! You’re really good at this!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His hand moves back to your cheek as he kisses you, longer than the last, “and you are very good at this.”

You, Rhonda, initiates the kiss this time, your hand pulling him to meet you and kissing him.

“I thought it’d be hard!” 

Kiss.

“And it’s not!”

Kiss.

“At,”

Kiss.

“All!”

He kisses you again, tongue swiping at your lips, you don’t let it get further though, pulling away to finish your line, “and I feel like I wanna do it for a long time, but I also feel like I want to do something else next, but I don’t know what that is.”

“I do,” He says, hand dropping from your cheek to rest against your hip over your pajama bottoms.

“Okay so for this part, you and Nikk will have a bunch of layers, so a coat or two, long sleeve shirts, a few short sleeve shirts, ski pants, jeans, and then long johns.”

“And are we stripping each other?”

“I haven’t decided that yet.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well it might be a little too sexual, you know? To have you strip each other? It might make the most sense for you to take your own clothes off.”

“Why don’t we try stuff?”

“What?”

“Try both, see which looks the best?”

“I don’t-,”

“Here, put some more clothes on, shirts and whatever, and then we can practice.”

“Are you going to grab clothes?”

“You can fake it,” he shrugs. 

You nod and open your closet, pulling out an old sweatshirt from your dad’s college you took years ago, “here,” you toss the sweatshirt to Tom.

“What’s this for?”

“So I have something else to take off of ya.”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods and pulls it over his head as you pull on a long sleeve shirt over your T-shirt and tank top, adding a sweatshirt on top. It feels ridiculous and you already feel bad for the layers that Tom and Nikk will have to wear and shed every single tech rehearsal and showdate.

“Okay, wanna take it from your line, ‘I do’?”

“Sure,” he nods, stepping back into character, body facing yours.

“I do,” He says, hands drop to your hips, pulling up your sweatshirt, your arms naturally lift to help him take it off.

He tosses it behind you, brown eyes moving between your lips and your eyes, open wide as you arms drop to your sides again, vulnerable.

“Should the characters, are they going to kiss during this?” He asks, hands fiddling with the long sleeve shirt.

“Uhh,” you start, eyes dropping to your feet, rocking body back and forth as you think. 

“We can, try?” He says, voice almost hopeful, but you shake it off.

“Uhm, I just, I,”

“Only if you want to. You know, so you can plan for the ending when we do it with Nikk.”

“I, sure, yes, for the scene,” you convince yourself that it’s only for the scene. That you only want to kiss Tom for the scene, and that you don’t wonder how it would feel to kiss him without hesitation, without thinking of what line is next and what part of the scene you are working on.

“So, should we just do what feels right?”

“What feels right, sure,” and you have to take a deep breath because nothing feels right. Your head was foggy with anger still from last night and the past few months, how you two consistently bickered and now he’s here, eyes wide, lips wet from the precious kisses. And your heart seems to beat faster as your eyes roamed his face, from the freckles on his tan skin to the slight blush on his cheeks. 

“Okay,” He says, hands tugging the shirt over your head before you grab his shoulder, pulling him down for a quick kiss before tugging the sweatshirt over his head. 

Next comes your t-shirt and as you help him toss it behind you, adding to the pile of clothes his hands cup your face, practically squishing your cheeks with his hands, long fingers resting against your hairline by your ears, thumb stroking right next to your lip you could almost drop your jaw and-

Just practice. Just finding what works best.

His lips meet yours, thumb still stroking your cheek softly as his lips part, tongue poking at your mouth. 

You don’t let him in however, hands fiddling with the edge of his T-shirt, pressing your forehead against his as your lips pull apart, “how would you, How’d you feel stripping down to just your underwear?”

“Well sweetheart I’d want us both to.”

“For the show,” you give an exasperated sigh, if your eyes weren’t closed they’d be rolling in your head.

“I dunno, don’t want to audience to pass out now would we?”

“Don’t be modest on my account.”

“Underwear then?” He asks.

“Sure, and Nikk, Nikk can strip down to athletic shorts and a tank top,” you say, his hands cover your own on his T-shirt and help you pull it off, heads pulling apart for a moment to throw his shirt with the sweatshirt behind him.

Your hands shake as he grabs your wrists, placing them on his chest. It was tanned slightly and warm against your fingertips.

“And then,” his hands rest on your hips, thumb slipping into the edge of your sweatpants, rubbing your bare hipbone.

“The rest, when you’ve, uh, got enough, clothes, on, for the scene, you’d take them off.”

“You don’t want to take these off darling?” Both thumbs are hooked into the edges of the sweatpants, ready to take them off if you give him the go ahead.

You so desperately want to say yes but you know you shouldn’t.

“I’d want us both,” you say, repeating his words from earlier.

Fuck, shit, you were way over your head. No going back now.

His lips meet yours again as your hands continue to shake against his chest, sliding down to his jeans.

Your hand quickly undoes the button as he pushes your sweatpants down, zipper next. Your sweatpants pool at your feet, leaving you in your tank top and underwear as his tongue swipes across your top lip. Your mouth reluctantly lets him in as your hands work to push down his pants.

His tongue enters your mouth and it’s smooth but hesitant, feeling out your mouth as his hands grip your bare hips, fingers pushing the tank top up further and further. They’re ghosting over your ribcage now and-

Knock knock knock.

***

Taglist: @tom-hollands-blog @unicornsyy @practicallylivesonline @jackiehollanderr @khhbby @amyalpha @peterbxrnes @relise-thefury @euphorictom @fandomdarlings @saysomethingspiderman @dylanrauhl @i-guess-n0t 

[hes-writer]

The Hate You Give

Hi hun! If you’re not too busy, could u write one where they’re are dating and she’s a latina? Like she feels insecure about her brown skin, slightly bigger chest and ass, her thick dominican accent bc the girls who were linked with him before were all white and blonde and like she tries to break up with him bc of all the hate and differences. Thanks honeyy!!💖💖 @champagnehaarry

disclaimer; I'm not latinx and I've done research as to not offend or stereotype this character to the best of my ability.

Summary: Y/N is latina and receives hate messages

Warnings: angst, fluff

——

Y/N was different. She knew that, well, she had an idea ever since she hit puberty way back when. Her chest had grown bigger than the rest of the girls and her bottom would get her catcalls when she walked down the street. She could handle it, she prided herself in being strong. She didn't mind her accent, not one bit. Sure, it was thick and her pronunciation on certain words had others asking for her to repeat what she just said maybe once or twice, but she tried to understand where they were coming from; ‘everyone has their differences,’ she thought. Her skin never really bothered her–in fact, she hadn't spared much thought about its pigment until now.

When she met Harry, all her insecurities washed away as if she was just a regular girl meeting the love of her life. The way she looked didn't matter to her because she could see in his eyes that he loved her—nobody could tell her any differently.

——-

Y/N was strong. So strong that even when the media caught the first sight of Harry and her hanging out together on their third date, she blew off the fact that one of the cameramen shouted at them, "Harry! Who's this beautiful brown lady with you?" One might say that it was a compliment, at least he called her beautiful, but she couldn't shake off the measures that person took to describe her. Couldn't have he just called her 'lady'? Y/N decides that she's making a bigger deal out of it than it actually meant.

The second time something remarkable happened—it was when Harry stopped their romantic walk to take pictures with his fans. Y/N didn't mind, she loved that Harry was so dedicated to the people that support him that he would basically give all that he can to them. He didn't have to, but he did and that made Y/N fall harder for him. One of the girls asked Y/N to take a picture, handed her their phone and posed with Harry. Y/N was surprised at the straightforward action and she knew that she could not mess this up. Not when the girl has probably been dreaming of this moment her entire life, Y/N will not be responsible for a blurry, half-assed picture. Instead, she asks the girl,

"Do you have any requests on how to take it? Portrait or landscape? Nothing below the waist or..?"

Harry admired her for being so caring, he only smiles at her for asking, being so patient that he feels giddy on the inside and he cannot wait to ask her to be his. The fan, however, furrows her brows and her face morphs into one of confusion.

"Can you repeat what you said?" Y/N repeats her statement but was only met with the same expression-–maybe with a hint of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, can you just take the picture? I don't want to be rude but your accent is so...thick, are you even from here,"

"Obviously not," the girl's friend answers for Y/N. The most obvious answer, if any. The girl beside Harry nudges her friend, eyes shifting from her and then hardening towards Harry as if warning her that she was being a bit rude.

Regardless, the friend eyes Y/N up and down with a glimmer in her eye that spoke hatred.

Y/N takes the picture anyway.

——-

As Harry and Y/N reach the door to her apartment, she couldn't help but think of the past events. It wasn't only that, it was a built up of temperament where she had been treated indifferently by people around Harry. Some fans commented under her selfie on Instagram ranging from "at least you have boobs and ass girl" to "how much fake tan does she use" —none, by the way, she was all natural. And Y/N can't help but feel a tad insecure.

Then came the news articles with the headlines, "Harry Styles Spotted With A Spicy Latina" or "Harry Snags A Girl From Down Under" which confuses her not only because they're an invasion of privacy but she wonders how her whole humanity can be diminished into such an objective headline—she had a name. Granted, she wasn't really worth knowing but regardless, it was better to be called by her name rather than a hotshot eye-catching headline.

She taps the link to one of the articles, scrolling through the lengthy piece of work, eyes squinting at the introduction where it states that Y/N was certainly a deviation away from Harry's usual hookups. Harry had taken it upon himself to make them some hot chocolate while she got changed in comfier clothes as a conclusion to their date night. She was supposed to choose the movie. Her eyes squint at the words "10 Proofs that Y/N Y/LN is a no match for Harry"

The first one on the list was Taylor Swift. Of course, how could Y/N forget about her. Skinny, blonde and pale skin, a stark contrast to her curvy figure, wavy hair and darker toned pigment. She feels a lurch in her stomach from the hit of realization.

Then came Camille Rowe—a model with similar attributes as Taylor. Completely the opposite of Y/N and she feels herself getting more sick at the knowledge being pounded into her. She didn't care about Harry's past because she only cared for who he is in the present. Seeing the women he went for before her puts a stake right through her self-esteem knowing that she would always be compared with one of them as long as she and Harry were together. Her confidence staggering each time she reads a negative comment about how her skin color made Harry stand out whereas it made her blend in the background-a sarcastic joke that wasn't very funny. Her breath hitching every time the topic of her accent came up; how fans who've met her in person make fun of her not having an understandable accent as if it was her fault that her pronunciation was too broad beyond their compare. And each time she sees a comparison of her and Harry with him and his exes, she shakes her head because she knows that literally nothing good ever comes out of that.

She knows she's strong. But why did this hurt her so much? The personal attacks being hurled at her made her feel so inferior to others and even to Harry! It was like the media was never gonna get used to the fact that she's a person of colour—continuously writing papers about their 'interracial' relationship as if it was such a huge deal when really, it was not even their business to pry or scavenge for.

"Hey love, have you chosen a movi– hey, hey what's wrong?" Harry walks through the doors of her bedroom, feet kicking the door slightly open while his hands carried two steaming mugs of foaming hot chocolate. Upon seeing her tears and slouched stance, he sets the cups down on the bedside table before sitting with her at the foot of the bed.

Y/N stares at him as he does so before wiping her eyes with the heel of her hands. "Nothing, it's nothing just.."

"You can tell me anything, you know that. Now tell me what's wrong, lovie" He wraps an arm around her figure as an action of comfort, but Y/N only sees it as a burden in her chest.

"I think we should break up, H" She looks at her sock-clad feet. Not being able to look at him in the eyes, it's her weakness.

"What? Y/N, did I do something?" Harry tilts her chin up towards his face, eyes frantically searching her red ones for a justifiable reason for her decision.

"I'm not good enough for you," Harry gasps at her confession, genuinely surprised that his girlfriend could even fathom to say those words, let alone think of them.

He denies every claim about her theory but his voice was muted by her mind repeatedly playing the things she had read a few minutes ago. Memories of her being demeaned echoing through her head.

"You're the best person I've ever been with. It doesn't matter what other people sa—"

"Yes it does, Harry! It definitely matters when I'm being constantly picked on and compared to your ex-girlfriends. Every day I read something about how I must've 'tricked' you into being with me because of how I look," Y/N cuts Harry's rant off, not caring if it hurts him because she was so so hurt. The pain had embedded itself in her, working its way up to her roots; who she was and where she came from.

"I'm not just another girl that Harry Styles dated. I'm the brown girl, the one who has the 'biggest ass' out of all of them and especially the darkest because you... you've only dated people like Taylor before and I can't live my life being put down because of how I look,"

Harry stares at her with emotion. Of course, the media was gonna pinpoint what his 'type' was. He didn't know it was hurting his love.

"Y/N, they're all bull. Whoever's writing this shit, they're only in it for the money," he begins, forcing her body to face him completely. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. They're my exes for a reason and even if I did date them, I'm with you now because I love you for who you are,"

"But it's true, isn't it? They're all so small and I'm big. They're half the size of me for god's sakes!"

"It's not true. And you know why? You're mesmerizing in your own way. I love the way your body curves, the way you look doesn't matter to me as much because you're a beautiful, genuine person inside and out," He nods along to his words. "But your body is amazing, Y/N. And you should learn to love your skin because it shows you who you are."

Y/N bored at Harry's eyes, seeing nothing but genuine kindness behind it. Her mouth gapes open having not heard such compliments from anyone as authentic as the words Harry was speaking to her.

"Harry..."

"No, Y/N. I won't sit here and listen to you put yourself down. You deserve to know how unbelievably gorgeous you are. The tabloids, the hate—they're not true and people like them need some education before they go off dragging other people who don't look like them down."

"You're right, H. I'm sorry,"

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about,"

She wipes tears from her eyes, this time they're from happiness.

——

@ynm1505